Unwanted Beauty
by Allisarte
Summary: EPPY UP! She never asked to be beautiful, she never asked to be famous for it, in fact she asked for the exact opposite. He never wanted his mothers fame, he never wanted anyone to know he was her son, but his eyes made that impossible. Thom.OC
1. In Which there is a Meeting

_A/N: Obviously I do not own Tammy's Characters, I do not own the King Arthur Tales, I do not own any works of literature I reference, If I did I would not be posting them here, I would be making money off of them which I most definitely am not. _

**Beauty: 1: In Which there is a Meeting and a Convenient Rainstorm**

_Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round heads in the square holes. The one's who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. You can quote them. Disagree with them. Glorify or vilify them. But the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the one's who do. _

Life was boring, well, _her_, life was boring. It was a whirl of pretty dresses, good and bad wine, and parties, an endless amount of parties. She had been told she was beautiful, as beautiful as the Lady Helen of the non-existent Troy, as beautiful as Athena, as Cupid's consort. But if being that beautiful was the cause of her cage she wished it upon someone else, someone who _wanted_ it, because she certainly didn't. She had never asked to be beautiful, she hadn't asked for green eyes and blonde hair, all of her life she had wished for blue eyes, because the rest of the world had blue eyes and dang it!- why couldn't she just be like everyone else? Why did she have to be the pretty one? People always wanted to know about the pretty ones, wanted to read about the pretty ones. No one ever wanted to read about the fat ugly ones. No one but her. She had always wanted to know what normal everyday people did, her priest had answered her by saying that normal people daydreamed about being her.

_Me. Why they want to know about me I'll never know. I'm not that interesting, I'm very boring in fact, and I'm just me, just Kallisto. _

She was on her way to Tortall, her mother was a social mountaineer, and said that the best match could be found in Tortall, and they were on the final leg of that journey, going through the city if Kallisto's ears were doing her any good, of course they were, she had relied on them most of her life. She had her eyes closed, trying not to bounce as her maid put the final touches on her face paint, more of that blasted brown kohl, she didn't even want to know how much it cost or how it was made. Her mother had probably had it created special by some mage who could have been saving children but instead was creating brown kohl.

She heard a loud, grating noise as the gate open, and she knew that soon she would be released back into sunlight, back into elusive freedom that taunted her, but stayed just beyond her grasp. The door opened, her mother exited first, giving Kallisto just enough time to slip off her shoes before she too was guided into daytime. There was a crowd, there always was, but she ignored them, focusing on fresh air, sunlight and the sound of nature. She opened her eyes to look at the crowd, one tall young man caught her eye, he had purple eyes, and he was viewing her with a look of disgust, _He thinks I'm just another brainless beauty._ She thought sadly, all of the ones worth having wouldn't have her, because they didn't want a woman who said nothing, they didn't want trophy wives. They wanted women that would challenge them, women who weren't afraid to speak up. _I'm afraid to speak up, but not to men, to my mother._

:

"Pink or purple? Mi'lady." Asked her maid, Kallisto didn't look up, she was too engrossed in her book, _Theories on the Source of Magic_. After a moment she looked up.

"I don't know, which would you wear?" She asked, and the maid blushed.

"The purple, with your hair down, like Morgan le Fay. Mi'lady. " The blushing, plain looking maid said. Kallisto smiled, she had told the girl the stories of King Arthur, Gawain, Mordred, Morgan, and the girl had taken them and held them close to her heart, and Kallisto thought it was a wonderful thing to see. She didn't understand why all people were not to be educated, it didn't make sense everyone was able, why shouldn't they learn too?

"Then that's what I'll do." She decided and the maids went to work.

She was fashionably late, as always, her mother and frowned when she saw Kallisto's waist length hair down about her hips, but then decided that trend-setting was allowed and Kallisto had descended the stair, slowly, gracefully, like the rest of the beauties before her. _Boredom, one word to describe a world of slow death, connived with anguish and mental deterioration. If I have to listen to one more comment about my hair…_She slipped out onto a balcony and down a flight of stairs before the gaggle of geese called women could follow her.

"Honestly," She muttered as she walked through the empty, slightly untended garden, she had exited the perfect one ages ago. "Doesn't anyone in this place know that there is more to life that clothing? Or hair? Or ridiculously crafted face make up? Doesn't anyone know that people die everyday from starvation? Or that there are wars being fought over the _stupidest_ things? I hate myself, I hate my life, I wish I were norm-"

"Don't say it." A male voice said from nearby.

"Don't say what?" She asked, not realizing that the hem of her dress was muddy, and forgetting that she had kicked off her shoes under a rose bush and not caring that tomorrow they would be the home of mice. She did notice that it was the purple eyed man speaking and that there was mud under her feet and that she was wiggling her toes in it.

"That you want to be normal." He answered, examining her with his eyes, she didn't care, she was used to it, and she was _tired _of it. Men always 'raped her with their eyes' as her mother so _daintily_ put it.

"All I have ever wanted to be is normal. I know that you immediately judged me as a brainless idiot, from the moment I saw you. I know that you still think it, because only a brainless beauty would wish that she was a barmaid, a simple girl that couldn't read and only wonders if the stable boy was going to kiss her again. A girl whose mother hadn't been plastering disgusting concoctions on her face since she had grown breasts. A girl who didn't have to wear shoes, a girl who didn't have to worry about virtue and being alone with anyone of _either_ sex, a girl who didn't know the woes of the world and therefore didn't feel the need to somehow do _something_ about it- only no one will take her thoughts seriously because she happens to be gorgeous. I didn't ask for this, I've never wanted this, I _hate_ this. If I was a normal girl I could at least run away and join some woman's troop, but I can't even do that, because people would recognize me, and my mother would drag me back. Beauty is not a blessing, it's a curse." She finished and realized that she desperately needed air, and then she realized what she had done. _Goddess, I just spilled all of my thoughts out to a man I don't know anything about. _He looked shocked, and intrigued, and something else that was part passion and part mystery. Then she did something she hadn't done for a long time, she turned and ran, her skirts above her knee, her feet sinking deeply into the mud, her hair behind her and he skin glowing in the moonlight, like Morgan le Fay, like Helen, she ran from her past, into something much more magical, but equally unwanted.

Thom was floored, this girl, the one he had labeled a green eyed vixen, was completely fascinating, not because of her beauty, but because she didn't want it. She honestly despised her own pretty face. It was mesmerizing, he never would have guessed that beautiful women didn't enjoy being beautiful. Perhaps it had been too bold of him to assume such, but this girl didn't want to be labeled as beautiful. _Just like you hate being labeled Sir Alanna's son, she wants to be known for being herself, not for something she has no control over._

And then he understood, she had never been taken seriously, she was a beautiful blonde, and she wanted to be known as an intelligent young woman who could think for herself, not as a beautiful girl enjoying herself while her mother used her to try and become queen. He began running after her, and then, like in the cheesy romance books, it rained.

_A/N: Um, right so, this is it, and therewon'tbeanupdateforthreeweeksbecauseI'mgoingtoUkraine…Don't kill me, but do review because I'm not sure it's any good and therefore don't want to waste my time writing something two people will read. _


	2. In Which We Find Shelter Under a Willow ...

**Unwanted Beauty: 2: In Which We Find Shelter Under a Willow Tree and a Decision is Made**

Her breath came in short, harsh gasps. The blood in her veins screamed for more oxygen. Her clothes were soaked through, gluing it to her body, exposing her to the world. Her hair was tangled, like that of a gorgon. The kohl around her eyes had smeared, painting her a frightening, death-like ghost, all pale skin and dark eyes.

She had forgotten about the ball, forgotten about her mothers edict 'not to be alone with anyone, any scandal could ruin us'. That was not something her mother could risk. The lady had been beautiful in her youth, black hair and sapphire blue eyes, but her beauty had not bought her a good marriage, scandal had ruined her, she had been loose legged, and an unwanted pregnancy had led to her parents forcing her to marry the second son of a duke, a man with no inheritance. Felicine was not about to let her daughters beauty leading to the same end.

His eyes stayed in her brain, an image she could not force out. She found beauty in his eyes, and beauty usually eluded her. She knew she was surrounded by 'beautiful' people. To her they were some of the ugliest people. Young peasant children were beautiful, horses were beautiful, some temples were beautiful, but men had never been beautiful, not to her. Men were a threat, men only wanted to bed her, not to know her, not to know her mind. But his _eyes_, she had never seen anything like them, the color was extraordinary, but the expression was unbelievable. It seemed like just by looking at her, he knew her soul. _I sound like one of those pathetic girls in the books mother claims are 'acceptable'. But he does, he knows me, I don't know him but he knows me. He knows I'm not a brainless beauty, and that I don't ever want to be. Well, I told him that, of course he knows now. Why did I do that? What possessed me? I can't think this way about him, Felicine will pick my husband, who-ever is best for her social standing. _

"Sickening! Absolutely sickening!" She screamed into the night, slumping against a willow tree. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head on her knees. The rain pressed against her body, an odd, cold source of comfort. "My mother doesn't love me, she doesn't want me, I'm only a tool. Only a possession." She whispered to the tree.

"One that could get lost, like all of the others." He whispered into her ear, she jumped, terrified only momentarily. _Those eyes, how can I ever be afraid of those eyes?_ She asked herself.

"Who _are_ you?" She asked, completely surprised but still needing information.

"Thom of Pirates Swoop." He said with a wet smile.

"That tells me nothing." She retorted, shivering.

"It tells you my name.

"You could be lying."

"Well I'm obviously my mothers son."

"I've never met your mother so I have no way to know that."

"Well you've certainly heard of her."

"Really? I didn't know that I'd heard of the Lady of Pirates Swoop."

"Everyone has heard of the Lioness, Morgan." He said with another one of his smiles.

"My name isn't Morgan." She said quickly, "and I haven't heard of the Lioness." She said sadly.

"You look like Morgan. And you have no idea how happy it makes me that you haven't heard of my mother." He said, offering a hand to pull her up. She shook her head.

"I can't go back to my mother like this." She said quietly.

"Who says that you have to?"

"I have to, I don't have a choice." She said, standing. "I _never_ have choices." He stepped forward, meeting her eyes.

"You _do_, no one is forcing you to stay. No one but yourself."

"I don't even know you." She protested, amazed that she was being talked into this by a man she'd met once.

"I think you do. I think you know everything you need to." He said quietly. "Just like I know everything I need to know about you." She met his eyes, the mistake that she kept making.

"Alright, okay." She said, nodding.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Yes." She said with a confident smile. "Yes." And then this strange young man that she knew nothing about hugged her.

_A/N: Look what I did! Chapter update! Before I leave! How much do you love me? Hmmm? Aren't I grand! I think so, but then again, I'm me, so I'm partial to thinking that I'm grand. Anyways, how much do you love me?_

**FanFictionFantom: **_I know, I'm a terrible grammar person, I do try! Honestly I do. It's just hard because I know in my head what it should sound like so when I read through it **I** know what I'm saying! Thank you for the compliment!_

_**Stargirl14:**I will have fun in Ukraine, I am buying chocolate for you all, though I am making no guarantee's I won't eat it on the way home!_

_**Lotzacaffine: **I always wondered what happened to Thom too, maybe its another quartet! I think there's going to be a kally series, check Tammy's website thou, it has the next twelve years of her writing career planned sooo!_

**CherryFaerie: **_That's my favorite way to spell Faerie! Lol, anyways…Thankya!_

**Atsuibelulah:** _lol, you have a point, but I've done it, blown up and random people, though, usually my blow-ups include major cramps that make me want to lie down and die. So lets say she's got PMS yah? Hehee, yes, terrible party's, we're getting there, Promise! _

**Cylobaby: **_I know, and it's not really three weeks, its ten days, but prom is right after, and then it's pre-finals, so I won't have anytime, which may end up meaning a lot of updates happen because my brain will shut down halfway through and all I will be able to do is release creativity_

**Clairanet:**_ I think the general consensus is that it is good, lets pray it stays that way!_


	3. In Which there is a Fever, and an Appear...

**Jollyrancher-j2k:** lol, I like Kallisto too! Thankee for reviewing! Maked me so happy inside.

**Some Random Reviewer: **I _love_ Thom, he makes me so giggly. I'm a LotR junkie too!

**Eth: **I'm writing I'm writing!

**Cede: **I wasn't planning on introducing the Lioness for several chapters…writing the Lioness makes me squirmy…scariness it is…

**Pussin Boots: **Thankyou kindly…

**Pengin: **Oooh, you used the word enticing, very motivating

**Cylobaby: **Kallisto's pretty? Hmm…I hadn't noticed.

**Cherryfaerie: **I would be crazy too, Morgan might too, you never know…You're such a feminist, voicing your opinions, gosh…faminazi!

**FanFictionFantom: **I know I'm grand! everyonewatchastheauthorgetsabighead

**Razzle-dazzle-me: **I wrote nothing in Ukraine! Lol, I didn't have time, I wrote this while I was 'writing' my history paper…uh huh uh huh…I know it's beautiful! Lol, well, decent anyways, I'm not sure about Thom in this chappie, he seems a little silly….

**Atsuibelulah: **cool name, Scandal? Maybe….ya never know… love ya Morgan!

_A/N: Well, Ukraine was fantastic, I didn't want to leave, the people are wonderful and full of love and kindness, I'm trying to remember were I'm going with this, but, yeah, I think this chapter will be at least decent, I'm not sure where I was going with the she's running away with him thing, but we'll see…_

**Chapter Three: Unwanted Beauty: In Which there is a Fever, and an Appearance of an Old Friend**

He had taken her back into the castle, through a hole in the castle wall that she couldn't see until he held her hand. "Isn't that a tad, hmm, _dangerous?_" She had asked him and he had only smiled at her.

"You couldn't see it until you knew it was there, and very few people know it's there, and Idon't think thatthey going to tell anyone" Then through the castle's system of tunnels, some of them known by servants, others hadn't been used for decades, but Thom knew they were there, and now Morgan did. "You can use these whenever you need to, just don't tell anyone." Was his warning, and she knew that she would heed it.

"I wouldn't have anyone to tell." She said as they emerged into someone's living quarters from behind a tapestry, Kallisto coughed several times and he looked at her worriedly. "It's only the dust." She said with a smile, but it was obvious that he didn't believe her.

"Uh huh, sit by the fire, I'll find something for you to change into." He said, she nodded and glumly headed for the couch as he disappeared into another room. He was right, she was freezing and would soon have a lovely chest cold and perhaps a fever. _This is what my mothers 'love' has driven me to, staying with strange men I don't know without her knowledge or consent. _She laid down, resting her head on the inside of her arm and soaked up the warmth that the fire gave her.

Thom returned, bearing a woolen tunic and a pair of thick hose. "These will be too big, but it's the best I can do until we find something more manageable." He said, handing her the clothes, "I'll be back in a few minutes with tea." He said while blushing, he then fled the room. Morgan laughed to herself once she thought he was out of earshot. _Such a bashful fellow,_ she thought as she changed. _Remember, he's still a man, he's still a threat, even if he seems to be a genuine, bashful, timid in some respects, nice guy, don't fall for him, **don't.** _

"It might already be too late." She whispered.

--:--

Their prophecies had come true; Kallisto was curled into a ball, as close to the fire as her clothing was permitting. Her limbs shook, her teeth chattered and even though she was about to light herself on fire she was freezing- and Thom was worried, it had been hours since the fever had set in and it hadn't broken, it hadn't gone higher in the last two hours, but it hadn't broken. He was a trickster, a practical mage, in some cases a fighting mage, not a healer- So he had called in the troops, well, he had called in Neal, but that was the same thing wasn't it?

--:--

"So who is she?" Neal asked, his green eyes glittering, with much amusement and a little annoyance at being woke at such an early hour, but mostly he just thought the whole thing was funny, at least now that he was fully awake.

"Her name is Morgan" He paused, "Kallisto, I mean." Neal laughed and looked at him, both puzzled and amused.

"Which is it?"

"Kallisto, she just reminds me of Morgan le Fey from the-" He began, waving his hands as he spoke, quite like Neal had in his exuberant youth.

"Arthurian tales, I know Thom." He said with a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

"And I _know_ that too, but _that's not the point!_" He shrieked. "The point is that Kallisto is just a fancy name her mother gave her, Morgan is what she deserves to be called_ needs_ to be called, but _besides _that she has a god-cursed fever and you have to come fix her!" He yelled, waving his hands in the air, quite like a madman.

"I know Thom, I know, here we are, I'll see what I can do." Neal said with a chuckle. The men entered the room, and Neal had been expecting a homely looking girl, brown hair, blue eyes, the normal thing one would expect for a girl who had been picked up out of the woods. "Gods man, you could have warned me!" Neal cried as he rolled her onto her back.

"About what?" Thom asked, completely oblivious. Neal cleared his throat and raised and eyebrow. "What?" Cried Thom, completely exasperated.

"Well, she's quite stunning, even feverish." Neal said with a laugh before he sank into a meditative state.

"Oh _that_." Thom muttered as he sank down into a chair to wait. "Why is the rest of the world obsessed with _that_?"

--:--

It was hot, so bloody _hot_. Worse than the summer her mother had made them suffer through in Carthak. She felt as though she was burning, fire was consuming her, it was in her blood, pumping through her body, filling her with the eternal flame that was both death and life.

And then there was cold, bone chilling, lake freezing cold. And she was sure that she was going to die of hypothermia. That she was going to freeze, death was overtaking her, like her mothers frigid words, hands like ice, voice like a snowstorm, judgmental eyes like the very heart of winter.

Sometimes she only felt like she was floating on an ocean of warmth, and then it was either too warm or too cold again. She hated the mish-moshy feeling of it all. It was enough to make a girl crazy.

--:--

Thom sat up and Neal flopped over onto his back. "I've done what I can, the rest is up to her, but it shouldn't be long." He said, rubbing his eyes.

"What do you mean? You didn't fix it all?" Thom asked as his violet eyes grew wide and wild.

"I burned the fever away, but if she doesn't try to wake and get better, she won't. It's a choice." Neal explained slowly, this girl made Thom a little crazy in the head.

"Oh." Thom said. "Then I guess we wait."

"You wait, I am going home to my lovely wife and children. Talk to her that usually helps." Neal said as he got up to go, groaning as he went.

"Getting old my friend?" Thom teased.

"Shut up, young buck."

And so he waited, her skin cooled, her muscles relaxed. He started a fire in the bedroom and carefully moved her to the bed, and himself to a more comfortable chair.

_A/N: So what did you think? Love me?- hate me? And how did I do with the whole, run away with me thing? Hmm? Be truthful!_


	4. In Which there is a Fight and a Mistake

**Lady dove of the green eyes:** thankya mucho grandes!

**Romantic With a Pen: **trying to slow down, really, I just can't seem to manage that feat.

**WildPixieChild16: **thankya!

**Nunnya Biznes: **Yeah, I'm a little grammar inept around the edges, it could be worse tho soooo…lol, I have blue eyes and brown hair, I figured it was ok to insult myself.

**Cherryfaerie: **love ya, thanks

**FanFictionFantom:** Sorry, I thought everyone realized that they were the same!

**Eth:** lol, oops…

**Lasy Em-Chan:** thankya

**Cede: **I can't do the math either, but it is my assumption that Neal is late twenties early thirties and Thom is early to mid twenties.

**Pussin Boots: **Goodgoodgoodgood

**Atsuibelulah: **this one is longer, I think….or maybe not now that I think about it...they've each been like four pages…I know the feelings are a major WHOA but it's just developed that way, its part of the magic…Love ya

_Oh, special thankyou to FanFictionFantom, Cherryfaerie and Atsuibelulah who have reviewed all three chapters! You guys rock!_

**Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Four: In Which there is a Fight and a Mistake**

"Thom. _Thom,_ oh please wake up!" She was talking, yelling, he awoke, startled and surprised. She was glaring, and smiling at the same time, damn confusing woman. He smiled anyway.

"Hello sleeping beauty." He said his throat scratchy.

"Oh _don't_ call me that." She whined and did her best to look pitiful.

"Call you what?" He asked innocently.

"Beautiful." She said, looking anywhere but him. He sighed and shook his head.

"Morgan, someday you will learn that beauty is not necessarily a bad thing." He whispered before going to make tea. She sighed and climbed out of the bed slowly. _Why do you always manage to mess things up? You're such a stupid girl sometimes. _She walked across the room, the rugs soft on the bottom of her feet. She entered the kitchen and leaned heavily on the doorframe.

"Thom, I'm very sorry." She said, she knew he was listening just from the way his back stiffened. "I know that I'm difficult, but please believe that I'm trying. I've never had friends, I don't know how to act, I don't know how to think. And then I think, gods Thom I've known you for how long? Twelve hours?" She asked with a tinge of disbelief and panic in her voice.

"Three days actually." He said from the hearth.

"I was asleep for three _days_!" She shrieked and Thom's hands went to his ears before he laughed.

"Yes love, three whole days, I managed to complete an entire experiment while you were unconscious." He said with a warm smile, and then he noticed her arms were shaking ever so slightly. "Morgan, you're shaking, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed you're not entirely well yet." She sighed.

"I should go home." She whispered, terribly frightened of what her mother would think all of the sudden.

"_What?_" He asked. "Morgan _why_? Did I do something? I haven't meant to-" He began panicking. _I can't loose her now, I just can't. She's already stolen my heart, and she doesn't even know it. _She stepped towards him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"No, no you haven't done anything. It's just, I can't spend my life hiding from my mother, hiding from people. I have to stand up to her, I have to stand up for myself. I have to go back, I have to prove to myself, to them and _to myself_." She said passionately, her hand tracing his face. He pressed their bodies closer.

"Say you'll come back to me Morgan, say that I won't loose you to the glitter, to the games they play. Say you'll come back, _please_." He whispered, holding her close to him. He looked into her pine green eyes, purple and green meeting in a vortex of opposites and similarities.

"I don't think I could stay away for long. Besides," She said with a grin, "I'm only going downstairs, not far." His violet eyes were full of pain and grief; hers were full of sadness and a hint of excitement.

"Promise me you'll be okay." He said.

"I promise, I'll see you tonight at the party." She whispered before leaning up to kiss him. And then she was gone like a whirlwind. A whirlwind that had spun chaotically into his life, and now destructively out.

_What did you expect Thom? That she would stay with you? She's only known you for a few days! And you wanted her to live with you? Whatever, how could you be such an idiot? She's a woman, you swore off women a year ago when Marina left you for a Scanran horse thief, who then stole your horse…. Vowed that you would never love again, and now look, you just **see** a pretty girl and fall in love all over again._

"Wrong, I've seen plenty of beautiful women, I live at court! There are only beautiful women. Surely if I was going to fall in love sporadically I would have done it by now. Morgan is special." He whispered.

_And how many courtiers think that she's special, believe that they love her because she's special, because she's different? Of course she's different; she looks like a bloody freaking goddess. Why wouldn't you love her? She's nice, she's kind, she's gorgeous. _

"She's been used, she's been abused, she doesn't want to be gorgeous, she wishes that she wasn't. That is what makes this different." He said before running out of the door. His footsteps echoed off of the passage wall, making it sound like a heard of elephants was in the passage, he smiled and ran faster.

George was in his office when Thom arrived. "You look like something from the under realm." The man said kindly.

"Why thank you dad, that's _just_what I wanted to hear."

"Anytime, now, what's wrong?" The older man asked, setting his papers aside and propping his feet up on the desk, signaling that Thom had his full attention.

"How did you know that you loved mom?" He asked, not beating around the bush and ignoring the surprise on his fathers face.

"Who are you in love with?" The Kings Spymaster asked, Thom sighed.

"Have you heard about Kallisto?" Thom asked, knowing his dad wasn't going to like this at first.

"The green eyes vixen that an entire regiment of the army was sent to look for? Yes unfortunately. _Please _tell me you haven't fallen for her." The older man pleaded.

"They sent an entire _regiment_?" he gaped.

"Yes, apparently her mother is convinced she was kidnapped. _Thom."_ He said the name sternly, and in a way that no one would ever argue with. Well, Ally would, but she was crazy.

"Well, she was with me. I met her at the ball three days ago, she was beautiful and entrancing yes, but I could care less. It's her eyes, they carry so much innocence and pain. Her mother is a witch, she made a mistake when she was younger and now Morgan in being forced to pay the price. She doesn't even want to be beautiful, she gets so angry when you tell her that she's beautiful. I feel like she's got a part of me locked up inside her and she doesn't even know it. And the funny thing is, I don't want that part of me back. I should want it, but I don't, because if I get it back that means that she's forgotten about me, and if she forgets about me I think I'd die." He said quickly and passionately. George leaned back and looked at his son for a long time. Thom eventually got nervous and squirmed in his chair.

"Just don't do anything stupid Thom. Don't let her have the rest of your heart. Don't fall that far this fast."

--:--

"You were **_where_**?" The confounded woman screamed as Morgan winced. "How could you _be so **stupid**_! You are an idiot! I am ashamed to call you my child. I-" Morgan interrupted her.

"Then don't." She said calmly. Her mother's jaw dropped. "But if you forsake me now you'll never get paid the bride price, and then where will you be? You'll be broke, and you shouldn't expect me to help you out." Morgan stood and began packing, dress after dress was placed in bag after bag as her mother sputtered.

"You have turned into a spoiled brat!" The lady screamed.

"And whose fault is that mother? Whose fault is that?"

"Kallisto-"

"_Do not **ever** _call me that again. That is no longer my name." She whispered, her voice deadly in the silence of the room.

"You little brat." Her mother said venomously.

"That's right, now, I am going to go to this party, and you better be in higher spirits when I get back." She said.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I am your only chance at a comfortable life, and I can deny you that at any point."

--:--

She practically ran down the hall. She was so confused, she hardly new herself anymore. She had never spoken to anyone so harshly in her entire life, it was almost as if she had become a separate person while she was talking to her mother. So much anger and hurt had surfaced and she had let it fly out of her in what she imagined was the same as letting powerful magic flow out of you.

She slowed to a walk as she descended down the stairs and smiled as she caught sight of Thom's red hair. She was still pondering how he was so much shorter after a few hours but she was only thinking about it in that part of your brain that thinks lots of ridiculous things. She tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around only…

_A/N: So how many of you have it figure out already? I'm not very sneaky, it's blatantly obvious…Anyways, this is a long sucker, I hope you guys didn't get bored in the middle! I hate that, when I'm reading something and it gets terribly boring right in the middle. I hope this helped to explain the insanely quick falling in love, there will be more of that in the future. Review please!_


	5. In Which there is an Encounter and a Mar...

Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Five: In Which there is an Encounter and a Marriage

She tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around only it wasn't Thom. She was looking an exact copy of Thom, only a little different. "Oh, ah, I'm sorry…I was looking for someone else." She sputtered, frowning a little. The woman looked her over and Morgan felt another presence looking her over too. She squirmed under the woman's attention.

She took the time to look at the lady, the same violet eyes, the same flame colored hair. And she was stunning, shouldn't have been but she was. She wasn't stunning like Morgan was, but she was still stunning.

"You must be Kallisto." The lady said, there might have been a hint of sarcasm in her voice, and there might not have been, Morgan couldn't be sure, but she didn't like it.

"I prefer Morgan, but my given name was Kallisto." She said, the same not-really-sarcasm lacing her voice. For half of a moment she thought perhaps she had made a mistake as she watched the woman's eyes flicker from mildly intrigued to completely interested. The decision was almost instantaneous, she would _not_ be walked all over again, she was _done_ being used and abused.

"Well then, _Morgan_, you're the one my son has fallen for. Why do you think that is?" The lady asked, her friends twittered nervously and Morgan stifled a groan, she detested twittering.

"I haven't the slightest idea Lady, he isn't exactly the type to be interested in a girl with no brains. So I suspect that it was my ability to think for myself. But then again I don't know because I am not your son. I'm sure you could ask him." Morgan said, smiling and swaying back and forth, playing up the fact that she was a dumb blond. It was easier to defeat one's enemy if they underestimated you. The redhead frowned.

"I could, but I asked you. What, _exactly_, are your intentions?" The redhead asked, looking distinctly unpleased. Morgan almost laughed.

"My _intentions_?" She shrieked, and she noticed they were attracting a wary crowd. "You honestly want to know my intentions? I wasn't _intending_ anything, I was sitting under a highly uncomfortable tree, in the rain, and you're son took me home. I didn't _intend_ to fall in love. I wasn't expecting it, I wasn't _intending _for him to fall in love with me, I don't _do_ that. But it happened. Did you _intend_ to fall in love with your husband lady?" She asked, her voice angry, she despised playing Spanish inquisition with this woman.

The redhead stared. "No, but I'm not a pretty face, I don't travel across the world seducing men,"

"I've _never_ seduced a man!" Morgan cried, awful flashbacks flitting through her brain. _Alfred, he was always there, always around, always **looking** at her. She couldn't tell her mother, she would just say to scorn him, and keep wiggeling her hips. Alfred, always touching, always making her squirm and feel ill Alfred-_ She refused to go back there, refused to relive those memories again. "Men are threats, and they only want one thing, I _despise_ all men, except for your son. He has never been a threat, never made me uncomfortable. And if you don't like that, well that's tough for you lady." Morgan said quietly, her voice tight and strained, but thick with passion.

The Lady looked stunned, and then she smirked. "Mama," Thom said as he came to stand next to Morgan. "You're looking marvelous this evening." He said, resting a hand on Morgan's thin shoulder.

"You'll meet me for lunch tomorrow morning." She said before smiling at Morgan and walking across the room. Morgan turned to look at him and dropped her head wearily against his chest.

"I don't think your mother likes me." She said after a few minutes of comfort. He laughed and she grinned as she felt it rumble through his chest.

"She doesn't like any female that comes within ten feet of me. What does it matter?" He asked with a smile. "I like you."

She smiled and he felt the muscles in her face move. "Well I'm glad because I like you too." She said before sighing.

"What is it?" He asked, placing his fingers under her chin and lifting her face so he could see her eyes. Tears clouded her eyes.

"Is this completely irrational? Is it entirely illogical that we can feel this way after a few days together?" She asked, a tear sliding down her cheek, he wiped it away tenderly.

"I don't know Morgan, I just know that you're feeling it to, so I'm not an idiot." He said with a smile.

"Okay then." She said with a smile.

"So," He said with a grin. "Where does that fire come from?" She looked confused.

"What fire?" She asked timidly.

"You just got in an argument with my mother and didn't faint, you also put up a pretty good fight, that's impressive. I thought you were this timid girl, so where'd that fight come from?" He asked with a smile. She shrugged and he laughed as a dance began. "Milady?" She giggled and took the offered hand.

--:--

He understood now that there was something in her past that haunted her, something that wasn't quite right, a wound not completely healed just yet. A something that was hidden beneath the surface, lurking in her past. And it wounded him that she wouldn't confide in him, granted they had known each other for four days now, and he wasn't sure if he would spill _his_ secrets, not that he had any….

He smiled as he looked at her, his Morganne, his Helené, the lover of his soul. _Lover of my soul? Neal was right, I do need to go kill something, I'm turning into a sappy man. _He grinned and got off of the couch an opened his door, someone was running up the hall. _Maybe it's Helené, Morgan, Kallisto…whatever her name is._ He thought with a frustrated grin as he opened the door. An angry red-haired, used-to-be beauty stood there, looking extremely intimidating.

"_Where is she!_" The angry-inside lady asked. Thom winced, hysterical women of any kind were not his cup of tea.

"I'm not trying to be pert, but, where is _who_?" He asked, backing into his rooms.

"My daughter that's who! Weren't you listening?" The thing screeched, he was not about to call this ball of anger a lady any longer, it was degrading to women.

"Hele-Morg-Kallisto?" He sputtered, still slowly backing into his rooms.

"YES!" She yelled and barged past him into his rooms. She ran about, screaming Kallisto's name the entire time. She must have finally come to the conclusion that she wasn't here.

"Why are you looking for her?" He asked, confused as to why the woman would bother to look for her now. She got a dreamy-eyed look on her face.

"I've made a match for her, she's to meet the Count Rasputin, and marry him in a week. Isn't it wonderful?" She asked with a wicked gleam in her eye before leaving. Thom felt as if he had been magicked in place. _Rasputin? She's to marry that **dog**? She can't, she won't. She'd die if she marries that curr._ He was horrified.

_A/N: hahaha, Rasputin…Anybody get it? Hehe, sorry this took so long, I've got play rehearsals, and Ap testing coming up, and catching up on missed work from Ukraine…Blah…death and destruction….REVIEW OR I MIGHT FALL OVER DEAD!_


	6. In Which there is an Act of Desparation

Chapter Six: An Act of Desperation

_A/N: I'm sorry this took so long! I worked hard on this; I'm hoping I didn't over work it. I wrote things, took them out, re-wrote them, put the original's back in, took them out. It was obnoxious. So this it what I ended up with…blech…Thankyou to my reviewers! I'm sorry there haven't been personal ones, I wanted to get this out to you asap._

She felt pounded. Never before in her life had she gone through so many beauty treatments in rapid succession, not like this had been. First it had been the baths, not usually a big deal. Usually she was allowed to do it herself. Usually she was allowed to enjoy herself. Usually she wasn't hurried in, and then followed in by large women with scrub brushes. Usually she wasn't suffocated with perfumes. Usually she wasn't taken out after five minutes of painful washing and shoved into a chair. Usually her hair was combed and then left down to dry. Not today, today her poor hair had been brushed, and then twisted into a painful knot on the top of her head. Usually she went without make up. Again, not today. Today she was painted like a canvass. Her unusually pale skin was made to look even paler, her usually pink lips were painted pinker, her usually rosy cheeks became rosier. Her eyes were lined with the obnoxious brown kohl she had so successfully avoided for the past few days.

That was not the end however. She was then _asked_ to put on a lacy white gown. The pain started with the corset, which was bound much to tightly in her opinion. Her mothers lady's maid pulled the laces until the edges touched, Morgan gasping and trying to yell at them the entire time. Then there was a satin white under dress. Morgan hated white, she firmly believed that it made her look washed out, especially with all of the white face paint her mother had ordered put onto her. And then the most lacy, puffy, obnoxious sized dress she had ever seen. It went over her head, and was tightly cinched onto her body.

Tears gathered in her eyes. She knew that this was no ordinary day. This was her _wedding_ day, and she knew that she would not be marrying someone she loved. _I should have expected this. Felicine has been to nice these past few days, quite to cordial. That little talk I had with her did nothing but encourage her. Why can't I just do as I'm told? Why couldn't I just have kept my mouth shut? None of this would have happened. I could still be happily lying to myself. _

Morgan bit her lip. _I will find a way out of this. I will find my way back to Thom, someday. _"Get _out_." She said to the women who were flitting about her room. "_Get_ _out_."

"But Milady-" One of the women dared protest.

"The bride is traditionally given a few minutes to herself is she not? I will have mine. Now get out before I throw yank your hair out." She said, raising her voice. Apparently she looked thoroughly pissed enough to cause them all to scurry out of her room. Her knees were shaking; she sat on the end of her bed before she hit the floor. She hadn't slept in this bed in weeks. Every time she had gone back to this room with the intention of sleeping in it she had gotten into a row with Felicine.

She pulled a piece of paper out of a drawer and quickly wrote a note to Thom.

_I'm to be wed today, I don't know to whom. But I will get out of here, I don't know where I'll go, but I will go. When I'm get wherever I'm going I'll write to you. Know that I love you. And know that I understand if you don't want me anymore, I'm sure by the time I escape I'll have been used. And you don't deserve someone else's leavings. I love you.-Morgan_

She wrapped it into a tiny cylinder and slipped it into her bodice, she would find a servant and have them deliver it when she could. For now, it was time to face her doom. She passed by a mirror on her way out of her room, she didn't bother to look at the pretty picture she made. _The world seems to think that I am only a pretty thing, just another doll. _She was done indulging that thought.

The wedding was quick, and she wasn't asked to speak, the priest talked fast and looked panicky. His eyes swiveled from place to place, never landing on the angry young woman in front of him, telling him to go die away from her. She had decided that fighting and outright refusing would only make matters worse. So she was sociable, pleasant even, most in the room thought that she was only mildly put out by being married to a man she had never met. When asked about Thom she smiled, laughed and changed the subject, she prayed that _he _didn't catch wind of her dismissing him as only another plaything in a long line of them.

The banquet afterwards was nothing more than three courses, hastily moved from kitchen to table and back again. The entire time Morgan studied her husband. He was an evil looking man. He was old, but not that old, she would place him at about forty, and he was what most women would call tall, dark and handsome. Morgan thought that he was tall, dark, and dangerous and she would have liked nothing less than to shove a dagger through his heart. She knew that surviving the night intact would be a trick and a half. She might just have to let him touch her. She managed to sip her note to a servant who looked hesitant but swore he would comply after she also handed him a gold noble.

She followed Rasputin to his rooms in a docile fashion. The less fuss she put up now, the less he would be expecting it, or so she thought…he didn't seem to care if he hurt her. He didn't seem to care that he had ripped her fine clothes. He didn't seem to care at all. He just, came at her in an animal like fashion and took his pleasure at her expense, and when he was done he left.

She felt broken, split in two, something was wrong, but at the moment she was in too much pain to think. Strange memories were floating through her head. Women telling her thing, giving advice, some telling her were to find the best pregnancy charms, some telling her how to buy shoes that fit properly, how to find the best seamstress, and one that told her if she ever needed protection, to go to the Temple of the Goddess. She fell back into sleep…

Her reflection in the mirror was nothing like it had been a week ago, she was battered. She was a battered, bruised woman. Something she had oftentimes thought was a weakness. Women who were battered weren't good enough, they were weak. They allowed themselves to be broken, they _allowed_ it. They chose not to fight back. _Chose_. That had been the keyword. _Chose._

"When did I choose to become a battered woman? When did I stop fighting?" She asked herself, and the answer was obvious. _The first time he laid a hand on me. I quit fighting, because it became to hard, a loosing and degrading battle. It was easier, the easier choice of the hardest choice ever made. But I never chose to be a battered woman, I never chose a husband who doesn't care. I didn't make that choice. But it stops now._ She got up, and walked out of her bedroom. She stopped in front of her dressing room and threw her plainest dresses in a cloth bag. She then pulled on a plain brown dress, black leather slide on shoes and a large black cape to cover her face. As an afterthought she dumped her bow of jewels in after them, and a sturdy pair of boots. Then, she jumped out of the window.

Morgan landed with a thump on a tiled roof six feet below her bedroom window. She grinned for the first time in weeks as she jumped and softly landed from on roof to the next until she landed on the ground. The living quarters of the palace had expanded quite a bit as the palace population grew. And in doing so the homes of the nobles had spread out down the side of the hill, their height declining, the whole thing was very convenient for runaway wives.

She landed in the dirt with a whump. She looked around to see if anyone had watched her descent. Then she fled to the Temple of the Goddess. She knew that they would shelter her, and perhaps she could become a priestess if Thom wouldn't have her, that way Rasputin would never have her. Every shadow in an alley reminded her of him. Every man that bumped into her reminded her of his touch. She felt tears falling down her face as she hurried to the temple district, and then felt ashamed of her weakness.

The entire city shook when a cry of pure rage emanated from the place. Morgan fell to her feet an uttered a cry of terror. _He's coming for me_. She lay in the street; frozen with terror, save for the sobs that wracked her body. _Get up you twit. FIGHT HIM_. The still small voice inside of her emerged, louder than it had ever been before. Louder than when she had confronted her mother, angrier than when she had argued with Thom's mother. She stood up, pulled her cape straight, grabbed her bag, and ran to the temple. Some might have said she fled to the temple. But the word fled makes it seem frantic, desperate and unplanned, random. This act was desperate, but it was an organized sense of desperation.


	7. In Which there is a Meeting with a Godde...

Chapter Seven

**Elerrina: **Is she going to go to Thom? Huh…I didn't know that…

**Magewhisperer:** I hate Morgan's mother too, glad we agree.

**Eowyn the Flamer or CCer:** I actually haven't ever taken an English class where I was taught grammar so I think I do decently at it. You were right about the faults thing, they're coming.

**Lady Em-Chan: **Thankya

**Clair-a-net:** I didn't let her do anything, her mother did it. Her mother is completely out of my control.

**Cede**: Thankyou?

**White-wolf2: **I just finished my Russian history course actually. Good tip on the beard thing.

**Pussin Boots: **Yeah me too. I actually did write it, but I think it was more for my sake than for yours. I needed to know what went on, but I don't think the rest of you did, and there is no reason to put things like that out there just because.

**Atsuibelulah: **We've already talked about your review for the last chappie. Thanks again!

**Sirladyknight:** I am implying nothing, just causing your minds to wander.

_Thankyou! I love all of you! I am rewarding your lovely, or not so lovely, reviews with another chapter. Also constructive criticism in a GOOD THING! I like it, now if you're going to go, this sucks and that is all you say, well, then I will laugh a LOT but, well, I'm kinda crazy._

**Chapter Seven: In Which there is a Meeting with a Goddess**

_A/N: Just so you know, I know this confused you before, KallistoMorgan Helené. They are all the same person! Got it? I didn't really want to have to explain this, I wanted it to be clear, but it confused you the last time and I didn't want that. Now, enjoy. _

The rain began to fall as she made it to the edge of the temple district. At first it was the warm comforting rain that falls on a warm summer's night, relieving some of the hot. But soon it turned to the cold, pounding rain that serves as a reminder to people that the elements are never to be considered friends. Her cloak was soon soaked through, and shivers that caused her to bite her tongue overtook her soon after. _I am never running away without first checking with a weather witch. _She promised herself.

The door to the Temple of the Mother Goddess was easily thrice her height, and solid oak. The carvings of women on the front did nothing to qualm the spirit of worry that had consumed her. _What if they're not home?_ She asked herself. _What if they're not **home**? What are you a nitwit Morgan? They're priestesses; where else would they go three weeks before midsummer? _Her stupidity lessened the knot of worry in her stomach and she began pounding on the temple door, hoping that a constant echo would wake someone. The door opened almost immediately.

A woman in a white shift stood in her bare feet, giving her a look that could burn brick. She had pale blue eyes a white blonde hair, lighter than Morgan's own. "Come in, we've been expecting you." Her voice was soft, and traveled around Morgan like the wind.

"I am Morgan." The green eyed blond whispered. The blue eyed woman looked Morgan over carefully, as if she were critiquing every part.

"To us you are Helené. The one to whom there will be a siege laid." And then she turned and walked, but with such perfect balance that it looked as if she were floating. Morgan, Helené nodded and followed, frowning as she lifted her sodden bag. "Leave it, one of the others will get it later. Helené nodded again, she seemed to be doing a lot of it, and followed. She didn't know for how long she walked, or where she went. She only knew that at the end of her trek there was a bed and a fire.

--:--

Neal was frowning again, she hated the frowning. Frowning meant much pondering, pondering meant half hearted attempts to listen to her wailings about her charges and Atsuibelulah's newest argument on why she should _not _become a knight. Basically Neal's frowning meant that she had to accept that the pages were inept, her youngest daughter was not her eldest daughter and Atsuibelulah was different than both her mother and her eldest sister. And Keladry knew that, knew it and _tried_ to accept it. But sometimes, she just did not understand Atsuibelulah's lace fetish. It was almost neurotic.

"Neal!" She finally yelled, two weeks after the frowning began. He looked up, completely startled by the noise.

"Gods Kel! Who died?" He asked, sliding his feet out of the windowsill.

"It's nice of you to join us in the land of the living again love. Now, what seems to be the problem, other than Kallisto married an evil sorcery, and Thom ran away." She said pertly, a character flaw she has absorbed by spending too much time with the first Lady knight.

"Well, that's pretty much it, except there is one more thing…" He trailed off, looking into the abyss that was his mind.

"Neal." She said, calmly this time, though it didn't seem to phase him. "Brusselssprouts, cabbage, turnips." He looked up. "The other thing?" She asked him and he handed her a many times folded note. She frowned as she read it. "So we're going to fetch him then?" She asked and he looked at her and nodded. "Well lets get to it then shall we love?" She asked and he smiled as he got up and walked towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and grinned.

"I could not have married a better woman." He whispered in her ear.

"I know, aren't you the lucky one." She said with a smug grin.

--:--

"I hate it, I hate this, I hate him, I hate- well, okay, I don't hate her, I'm still madly in love with her, _why_ I have no idea, she married and absolute git with conquer- the – world tendencies. Stupid blighter." He was muttering, again, down at the southernmost, okay, not the southernmost, but past Carthak, anyway, down at the southernmost point of the world and he was muttering about her. _Still. _Four months after he met her, three months and one week after her marriage, and unbeknownst to him, one week after her daring, okay well, rather normal escape from a tyrant.

"What was that Master Thom?" One of his slave boys, yes slave boys asked. He had picked up slave boys because he didn't feel like paying one gold noble a day for a servant who would whine and gripe the entire time they were down in this slimy jungle. So, he had picked up two slave boys, one almost thirteen (or so he reckoned) and one fifteen (again, a guess). It was cheaper, and by the time they got back to Tortall they would be highly trained excavators and he could grant them their freedom and then they could get good jobs. A fair bargain he thought, they spend a year or so in a slimy, muggy jungle digging in dirt, sludge and anything else he decided to dig in. They make a few archaeological finds and go home. And hopefully he would be cured of his love for Morgan. Hopefully.

"Oh, I was just…um…" He tried to come up with something intelligible to say and failed miserably.

"He was just ranting about the girl who loves him but was forced to marry the dog again Enitan, that's all. Not important." Folami said with a laugh as he continued to brush what Thom knew to be a tree root.

"I figured as much." Enitan said with his little boy giggle. "Thommy, is this an important piece of vase or can I chew on it?" He asked. Thom sighed, these boys had long ago lost their fear of him, they still did what they were told promptly and efficiently, but they were teases.

Thom held out his hand for the vase. "She wasn't forced. Women in Tortall cannot be forced to marry anyone they don't want to. It's been the law for three years now." He said grumpily as he tried to clean the pottery shard with the murky water from the possibly poisonous river.

"Did she know that? From what we've heard about the mother woman, she wouldn't have told miss Kally-morg-helen now would she?" Folami said wisely. _Freaking sage_. His mind muttered. _Great now I'm muttering in my head. Wait, did she know that?_

--:--

She rolled out of her bed and onto her feet and staggered to stay upright. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and pulled on the white shift she had been wearing for a month. She should have pulled on the wool one, it was getting colder out now that it was September. A knock on her wood door caused whatever urges she had to go back to bed to flee. She sighed, pulled up the hood and tucked her hair into it. She opened the door.

"The Mother wants to see you." Agaue spoke, her voice spinning and whirling like the wind. She looked frail, her body thin, sometimes Helené would say she looked starved, but she ate like a soldier. A fat soldier. Then she actually heard what Agaue had said. _The Mother. As in the Mother Goddess. _She was going to die.

The two women walked silently down the halls. Morgan had gotten used to these quiet women. At first the quiet had unnerved her, all she could do was think, and remember. She had tried valiantly to remember the good times, the times she spent with Thom, instead of the time she spent with Rasputin. It had only worked for so long. The memories had some flooding back, and eventually she had fallen to the floor and sobbed, for days. And only then had the healing begun.

She had never noticed any particular bad habits, she didn't scratch or wiggle, but after arriving at the Temple she realized…She was a nail biter. And not just the innocent nail biters who only nibble. She was a full out, bite them until they bled, and then begin chewing on the cuticles nail biter. Morgan wouldn't have noticed except that weeding the gardens got dirt in them, and then they got infected and she had visited the healers several times with bleeding, puffy, and infected fingernails. She was disgusted with herself. And now that she was on her way to the Mother she realized that she was yet again chewing on her fingers. She quickly took them from her mouth and folded her hands behind her back. _Out of sight, out of mind…For now…_

The Temple room of the Mother goddess was not open to the public, there was a public room, but the Mother never liked to reside there. Too many people, complaining of too many stupid things was the excuse the older priestesses made. Which made sense to Morgan. In her weeks at the temple she had worked in the pubic temple. Women came and complained of their monthlies, how bad they were, and could she please so something about it? Morgan understood bad cramps, the ones that made you faint or vomit. She had had them a time or two in her life an knew how painful it could be, but it wasn't something Helené would have asked the Mother to take away.

The other priestess moved respectfully to the side when the reached the door to the inner temple. Helené smiled her thanks and opened the door. The room was beautiful, Morgan had known it would be, but she hadn't expected it to be made of glistening white marble and gold trimmings. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the alter where a beautiful woman sat.

"

Hello Kallisto." The Mother spoke and Morgan was driven to her knees. The voice of the mother was painful, echoing in her head. Bouncing off of the walls of her inner membrane. It penetrated to the core of her being, separating joint from marrow, soul from self. It was a pain like any other, and a pleasure at the same time. She grit her teeth and bit her cheek to keep from screaming. "Or should I say Morgan? Helené? Guinevere? Anastasia? Elizabeth? Mona Lisa? Cinderella?" The mother's voice was mocking and Morgan wished to cry.

"Just Morgan. I am not all those women." She ground out between bursts of shattering pain.

"But you are, have been, or will be." Morgan looked up in shock, the pain momentarily abating.

"I am not, will not, have not been all of those things." Her protests were in vain, the goddess laughed.

"Listen to me. You began as Kallisto. You became Cinderella, the abused, confused girl. You morphed into Morgan, the misunderstood beauty.

You became Anastasia, _are _Anastasia, coveted and wanted by an evil sorcerer. You will be Helené, the woman for whom a war was waged You will be Guinevere, a woman who betrays her lover. You will be Mona Lisa, a woman with a secret. You will be Elizabeth, a queen." She spoke all this, prophesying Morgan's future, near and far. And then she was gone, and Morgan, Helené was left crying on the floor.

_A/N: Look the real storyline! YAY! Only seven chapters of waiting. I have the feeling this is going to be very long…good thing summer is coming huh?_

_A/N: Just so you know, I know this confused you before, KallistoMorgan Helené. They are all the same person! Got it? I didn't really want to have to explain this, I wanted it to be clear, but it confused you the last time and I didn't want that. Now, enjoy. _

The rain began to fall as she made it to the edge of the temple district. At first it was the warm comforting rain that falls on a warm summer's night, relieving some of the hot. But soon it turned to the cold, pounding rain that serves as a reminder to people that the elements are never to be considered friends. Her cloak was soon soaked through, and shivers that caused her to bite her tongue overtook her soon after. _I am never running away without first checking with a weather witch. _She promised herself.

The door to the Temple of the Mother Goddess was easily thrice her height, and solid oak. The carvings of women on the front did nothing to qualm the spirit of worry that had consumed her. _What if they're not home?_ She asked herself. _What if they're not **home**? What are you a nitwit Morgan? They're priestesses; where else would they go three weeks before midsummer? _Her stupidity lessened the knot of worry in her stomach and she began pounding on the temple door, hoping that a constant echo would wake someone. The door opened almost immediately.

A woman in a white shift stood in her bare feet, giving her a look that could burn brick. She had pale blue eyes a white blonde hair, lighter than Morgan's own. "Come in, we've been expecting you." Her voice was soft, and traveled around Morgan like the wind.

"I am Morgan." The green eyed blond whispered. The blue eyed woman looked Morgan over carefully, as if she were critiquing every part.

"To us you are Helené. The one to whom there will be a siege laid." And then she turned and walked, but with such perfect balance that it looked as if she were floating. Morgan, Helené nodded and followed, frowning as she lifted her sodden bag. "Leave it, one of the others will get it later. Helené nodded again, she seemed to be doing a lot of it, and followed. She didn't know for how long she walked, or where she went. She only knew that at the end of her trek there was a bed and a fire.

--:--

Neal was frowning again, she hated the frowning. Frowning meant much pondering, pondering meant half hearted attempts to listen to her wailings about her charges and Atsuibelulah's newest argument on why she should _not _become a knight. Basically Neal's frowning meant that she had to accept that the pages were inept, her youngest daughter was not her eldest daughter and Atsuibelulah was different than both her mother and her eldest sister. And Keladry knew that, knew it and _tried_ to accept it. But sometimes, she just did not understand Atsuibelulah's lace fetish. It was almost neurotic.

"Neal!" She finally yelled two weeks after the frowning began. He looked up, completely startled by the noise.

"Gods Kel! Who died?" He asked, sliding his feet out of the windowsill.

"It's nice of you to join us in the land of the living again love. Now, what seems to be the problem, other than Kallisto married an evil sorcery, and Thom ran away." She said pertly, a character flaw she has absorbed by spending too much time with the first Lady knight.

"Well, that's pretty much it, except there is one more thing…" He trailed off, looking into the abyss that was his mind.

"Neal." She said, calmly this time, though it didn't seem to faze him. "Brussels sprouts, cabbage, turnips." He looked up. "The other thing?" She asked him and he handed her a many times folded note. She frowned as she read it. "So we're going to fetch him then?" She asked and he looked at her and nodded. "Well let's get to it then shall we love?" She asked and he smiled as he got up and walked towards her. He wrapped his arms around her and grinned.

"I could not have married a better woman." He whispered in her ear.

"I know, aren't you the lucky one." She said with a smug grin.

--:--

"I hate it, I hate this, I hate him, I hate- well, okay, I don't hate her, I'm still madly in love with her, _why_ I have no idea, she married and absolute git with conquer- the – world tendencies. Stupid blighter." He was muttering, again, down at the southernmost, okay, not the southernmost, but past Carthak, anyway, down at the southernmost point of the world and he was muttering about her. _Still. _Four months after he met her, three months and one week after her marriage, and unbeknownst to him, one week after her daring, okay well, rather normal escape from a tyrant.

"What was that Master Thom?" One of his slave boys, yes slave boys asked. He had picked up slave boys because he didn't feel like paying one gold noble a day for a servant who would whine and gripe the entire time they were down in this slimy jungle. So, he had picked up two slave boys, one almost thirteen (or so he reckoned) and one fifteen (again, a guess). It was cheaper, and by the time they got back to Tortall they would be highly trained excavators and he could grant them their freedom and then they could get good jobs. A fair bargain he thought, they spend a year or so in a slimy, muggy jungle digging in dirt, sludge and anything else he decided to dig in. They make a few archaeological finds and go home. And hopefully he would be cured of his love for Morgan. Hopefully.

"Oh, I was just…um…" He tried to come up with something intelligible to say and failed miserably.

"He was just ranting about the girl who loves him but was forced to marry the dog again Enitan, that's all. Not important." Folami said with a laugh as he continued to brush what Thom knew to be a tree root.

"I figured as much." Enitan said with his little boy giggle. "Thommy, is this an important piece of vase or can I chew on it?" He asked. Thom sighed, these boys had long ago lost their fear of him, they still did what they were told promptly and efficiently, but they were teases.

Thom held out his hand for the vase. "She wasn't forced. Women in Tortall cannot be forced to marry anyone they don't want to. It's been the law for three years now." He said grumpily as he tried to clean the pottery shard with the murky water from the possibly poisonous river.

"Did she know that? From what we've heard about the mother woman, she wouldn't have told miss Kally-morg-helen now would she?" Folami said wisely. _Freaking sage_. His mind muttered. _Great now I'm muttering in my head. Wait, did she know that?_

--:--

She rolled out of her bed and onto her feet and staggered to stay upright. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and pulled on the white shift she had been wearing for a month. She should have pulled on the wool one, it was getting colder out now that it was September. A knock on her wood door caused whatever urges she had to go back to bed to flee. She sighed, pulled up the hood and tucked her hair into it. She opened the door.

"The Mother wants to see you." Agaue spoke, her voice spinning and whirling like the wind. She looked frail, her body thin, sometimes Helené would say she looked starved, but she ate like a soldier. A fat soldier. Then she actually heard what Agaue had said. _The Mother. As in the Mother Goddess. _She was going to die.

The two women walked silently down the halls. Morgan had gotten used to these quiet women. At first the quiet had unnerved her, all she could do was think, and remember. She had tried valiantly to remember the good times, the times she spent with Thom, instead of the time she spent with Rasputin. It had only worked for so long. The memories had some flooding back, and eventually she had fallen to the floor and sobbed, for days. And only then had the healing begun.

She had never noticed any particular bad habits, she didn't scratch or wiggle, but after arriving at the Temple she realized…She was a nail biter. And not just the innocent nail biters who only nibble. She was a full out, bite them until they bled, and then begin chewing on the cuticles nail biter. Morgan wouldn't have noticed except that weeding the gardens got dirt in them, and then they got infected and she had visited the healers several times with bleeding, puffy, and infected fingernails. She was disgusted with herself. And now that she was on her way to the Mother she realized that she was yet again chewing on her fingers. She quickly took them from her mouth and folded her hands behind her back. _Out of sight, out of mind…For now…_

The Temple room of the Mother goddess was not open to the public, there was a public room, but the Mother never liked to reside there. Too many people, complaining of too many stupid things was the excuse the older priestesses made. Which made sense to Morgan. In her weeks at the temple she had worked in the pubic temple. Women came and complained of their monthlies, how bad they were, and could she please so something about it? Morgan understood bad cramps, the ones that made you faint or vomit. She had had them a time or two in her life and knew how painful it could be, but it wasn't something Helené would have asked the Mother to take away.

The other priestess moved respectfully to the side when the reached the door to the inner temple. Helené smiled her thanks and opened the door. The room was beautiful, Morgan had known it would be, but she hadn't expected it to be made of glistening white marble and gold trimmings. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the alter where a beautiful woman sat.

"

Hello Kallisto." The Mother spoke and Morgan was driven to her knees. The voice of the mother was painful, echoing in her head. Bouncing off of the walls of her inner membrane. It penetrated to the core of her being, separating joint from marrow, soul from self. It was a pain like any other, and a pleasure at the same time. She grit her teeth and bit her cheek to keep from screaming. "Or should I say Morgan? Helené? Guinevere? Anastasia? Elizabeth? Mona Lisa? Cinderella?" The mother's voice was mocking and Morgan wished to cry.

"Just Morgan. I am not all those women." She ground out between bursts of shattering pain.

"But you are, have been, or will be." Morgan looked up in shock, the pain momentarily abating.

"I am not, will not, have not been all of those things." Her protests were in vain, the goddess laughed.

"Listen to me. You began as Kallisto. You became Cinderella, the abused, confused girl. You morphed into Morgan, the misunderstood beauty.

You became Anastasia, _are _Anastasia, coveted and wanted by an evil sorcerer. You will be Helené, the woman for whom a war was waged. You will be Guinevere, a woman who betrays her lover. You will be Mona Lisa, a woman with a secret. You will be Elizabeth, a queen." She spoke all this, prophesying Morgan's future, near and far. And then she was gone, and Morgan, Helené was left crying on the floor.

_A/N: Look the real storyline! YAY! Only seven chapters of waiting. I have the feeling this is going to be very long…good thing summer is coming huh?_


	8. In Which Mistakes Are Realized

Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Eight: In Which Mistakes Are Realized

She lay on the floor of the inner Temple, exhausted in body and soul. She wouldn't be all of those women. She wouldn't make their mistakes, she didn't want to. All she wanted was to live out the reminder of her life calmly and simply, or she wanted to be with Thom, but that wasn't going to happen was it? She had been sending him letters every few days, hoping that his anger with her would fade, and he would at least write her a letter telling her that he didn't want her. She believed that he owed her that courtesy. But perhaps the betrayal ran too deep, too cold, too violently through him still. So the letters had stopped, and she had gone on with her life as an apprentice to the Priestesses of the Mother.

The door flew open and Helené rolled over so she could look at the intruder. It was one of the youngest apprentices, and she looked terrified. "What is it?" Helené asked, biting the inside of her cheek as she struggled to sit up.

"He's here." The girl whispered, terror pulsing off of her thin body. A chill ran up Helené's spine.

"Who's here?" She asked, this time exhaling violently as her body struggled to stand.

"Your husband." Helené's fears were confirmed. _Did you really expect him to stay away? Honestly Helen_é_? Shit! Now I'm calling myself Helen_é Her mind was busy arguing with itself when she noticed that her weak body had hit the floor at the mention of her _ever so loving_ spouse. The apprentice had come to help her stand and Helené smiled her thanks. "The aged priestesses want to speak to you about this." Again Helené nodded.

The aged priestesses were the wisest, not necessarily the oldest, for some young women now sat on the council. They sat around a round table, causing Helené to smile at the reminder of her favorite story. The apprentice deposited her in a chair and then fled the room, probably to go hide in a vase.

"Helené, our temple has been laid siege to." The oldest spoke and Helené closed her eyes. _This can't be happening, tell me this isn't happening…_Her mind pleaded.

"I will not be that woman!" She screamed. "I will not! I REFUSE to start a war. I refuse to betray the man I love I REFUSE TO BE HELENE! I cannot, I cannot do it. I will not do it. I will not be a self centered whore. I will not lie, I will not be promiscuous. I DO NOT WANT to be THAT Woman. Please don't make me! I CANNOT DO THAT!" She was screaming, ranting and raving. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were swelling. She looked like the madwoman she felt like.

---:---

"Remind me to never _ever_ do this again." Neal said angrily. The pair of them had been traipsing through warm, mucky, smelly _goop_ for three days in an attempt to find Thom. Kel gave him an exasperated look and swore. Neal laughed. "I think we ought to go back to Yaman Lady Knight. You have spent far too much time around the uncivilized Tortallans. You need to be reminded of propriety dear." He said in a very superior manner. Behind him his wife growled deep in her throat. Making her man would distract them both from this misery that was heat.

"Don't you dare tell me what _I _ need to be reminded of. Especially_propriety._ I have never done a proper thing in my life. Why should I start now." She ranted, her voice traveling through the woods, could you call them woods?

"My dear, obviously you're not listening. You need to pay attention to-"

"Why?" She asked, getting into stride. "Because you're male? Because you have a piece of flesh dangling between your legs and I don't? Because since time began your sex has ruled the world? Because it's _tradition?_" as she ranted Neal reflected on how much his dear wife had changed. Months spent raiding and destroying whore houses had given her a great bitterness towards the exploitation of women. Six months spent in the Scanran court had made her angry as hell towards tradition. The only reasoning these men gave for their actions was that it was tradition. He had been surprised when she had agreed to marry him. And once again he was glad that he hadn't married Yuki. It had taken years for him to realize that he had done nothing wrong, she had done nothing wrong. The war had ended, they had all gone home, and even his excitement at seeing her again wasn't enough to mask the fact that he felt no different around her than he did Alanna or Daine. She was just another woman, nothing special. Keladry however made his blood pump, made his heart twitch, made other things twitch. She had returned home a brazen, angry woman. She had ranted and raved, cursed, beat the hell out of men who challenged her for the things she said; she had become his angry wife. And he loved her for it.

And that was when they came upon a camp in the middle of what people called the Rainforest. Hah, Rainfirest, riiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Try Mudforest, HellForest, Disgustinglywarmforest. Rainforest, HAH!

"Neal?" Thom asked, surprised as ever. People did not just randomly appear in this place. "And Keladry?" he asked, where had they _come_ from?

"Get up off of your ass. We're taking you home now. MOVE!" Kel screamed and the two black boys jumped to their feet.

"I can't go home, I've got to finish my research." He protested. _I can't go home, I can't watch her be the wife of another man._

"Research, is that the newfangled term for running away from the woman you love?" Kel asked sarcastically as she began picking things up off of the soggy earth.

"Now wait just a minute! She got married to another man!" He yelled. "She left me! Now I'm leaving her in peace!"

"Hah, you left her with an abusive husband. She didn't want to marry that scum."

"Then why did she? Women can't be forced into an unwanted marriage anymore!" He cried.

"They can if they don't know that they don't have to." Neal said quietly. "Who would have told her?" He asked just as quietly.

"I…_shit_."

_A/N: ummm….please don't shoot me…._


	9. In Which the Truth is Told

Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Nine: In Which the Truth is Told

Horror crept into the Temple. Young apprentices sobbed while the old priestesses prayed fervently. The servants went about their work quietly and with great timidity. Even the animals tread carefully. The city itself was subdued, as if they had caught the dread that covered the temple district like a blanket of snow. All that lived in the city awaited the siege, waited for the war that was over something so trivial and all important as the possession of a woman.

In history women have always had little power, and also had all of the power. Women hold a great deal of men's power. The men may be the body and head of the country, but the women are the neck, controlling where it travels.

Helene watched the developments with horror. Or did she? In creating a war she had given herself a great deal of power. For the first time in her life she held the cards, she controlled the outcome, as long as she could continue to manipulate both men. The ball was finally in her court, she only had to keep it there. A cook caught her standing in the window, a secretive smile on her face as the eastern wind blew her doom and destiny towards her.

"Lady?" The cook asked carefully, all of the servants had learned that Lady Helene was not to be crossed these days. Oftentimes Helene would snap at the servants, cursing them for their idiocy, had no one ever told them that servants were not to be seen or heard?"

"_What_?" Spat Helene venomously. She _despised_ the servants lately. Tolerating their ineptitude and stupidity was currently beyond the limits of her patience. Why they had to ask questions was so far past her understanding of humanity's lowlifes that she wasn't even going to try.

"I…ah…um…I…" The cook stammered, noticing that again, kindness was not going to be well received here.

"Spit it out! I do not wish to spend any more time than I have to speaking to a _cook_." Helene spat. The old woman's eyes clouded with tears and she quickly disappeared. If anyone else had seen, they would have said that Helene's character brightened, because power was enough to make anyone smile.

---:---

_Gods, why does going back always seem to take longer? How could I have left her? Why was I so dense? _For the past several weeks those same thoughts had collided in a whirlwind of hurt inside Thom's head. He strongly believed that his life had turned into a continual trek down a road of agony.

"Oh snap out of it already." Keladry finally said as they boarded a ship that would take them to Port Caynn. "It's not like someone died or anything. Your mother is fine, your father is having a great time with this Carthaki thing and your brothers and sisters are all happily flitting about causing chaos, nothing to worry about." Kel said cheerfully, making Neal laugh and Thom roll his eyes.

"I feel like an idiot." Admitting his feelings had always been hard for Thom, it meant that he was exposing himself, which was something he seldom did in front of anyone but Morgan, he wasn't sure why it was different with Morgan, but it was.

Thinking such thought always led him to ask himself why it was different with Morgan. What was special about that girl? _What is it?_ His brain screamed at him. _Because I love her._ Was the logical answer, but was that it? How was it possible to love someone you had known for three weeks? _Did I love her, or the idea of her? _He asked himself. _The beautiful girl who doesn't want that beauty, and has a brain, what isn't to love? _

Thom spent his trip to Port Caynn asking himself such questions. Did he love her? Did he truly? The answer eluded him,

"Alright, what's the matter?" Neal asked as they sat in the pub nursing pints of beer. Thom sighed the sigh that men had been sighing for ages, the sigh of men who weren't in love but desperately wanted to be.

"I don't love her. Well, I do, but I'm not in love with her." He said quietly, and watched as Neal's eyes widened in horror.

"What?" Neal's voice was quiet and harsh. Thom felt threatened and alone.

"I don't love her. I never did, I loved the _idea_ of her." Thom's voice was strained, he was in pain.

"Then why are we doing this?" Neal shrieked. "If you don't love her then why are you marching into a city full of Rasputin's assassins and a temple that is _surrounded_ by his magic?'' The older man had a point, why was he doing it? _Because you want to prove to yourself that you do love her, because you love the idea that much._

"Because it's the right thing to do." That cliché answer was all the answer he would ever give Neal. Reason being?- It was easier. There are times in life where giving the easy answer is the only real answer. Just like there are times when admitting the easy answer is the only honest answer you can give without breaking yourself in half, which is what Thom was doing, avoiding breaking himself in half. Which would only make it that much when it happened.

_Okay so this lame bit was all the creative energy of the last few days. Sucks to be me! Oh and don't tell me that Kel and Neal are OCC, I know that they are, I like them that way. Contrary to what seems to be common opinion this piece is not about them, I'm using them because it's much easier to pull characters that already have back-story than it is to create new ones and create viable back-story for them, so there you go. The OCC-ness is due to my own laziness, deal with it or quit reading this. The lack of grammatical correctness is due to the fact that I have never taken an English course in which there was grammar involved. How did I get through high-school thus far? I take literature appreciation courses. So I don't know how to write properly, that's why, there is no way to fix it, again, deal with it. If you can't deal with it, copy the chapters, edit them and send them back to me. If you want them before I update them tell me and I'll send them before I upload them, but I won't wait longer than a day or two, so you would have to be fast. Thank you that is all. _


	10. In Which A Discovery Is Made

**MageLord: Unwanted Beauty**

_A/N: Hello again, I realize that this begins another subplot, please know that we will be seeing Thom and Helene again next chapter. Not to worry._

"When cities hold their breath, when animals pause and then flee, when old women wake in the middle of the night and old men once again carry weapons, those are the warnings for great disasters. Such warnings usually go unheeded by the masses, and those who listen are called crazy. Crazy for listening to natural warnings? Crazy for a quiet soul? If that is the accusation then yes! Yes!- I am crazy! Downright insane! And I will gladly take the criticism and prejudice thrown at me. For it appears that in this city that holds it's breath I am the only one that realizes a disaster comes ever closer.

"Do you honestly think that the storm coming from the east is natural? That the plague of rats that has recently come down upon us mere chance? The disappearance of our siege supplies a grand miscalculation? How can you believe that the unmannered man who appeared and overnight becomes the palace sorcerer was really the priest of a god of old? He who offends the princess, seduces the queen and half of the women of court _while he had food in his beard_ was just uneducated? Are you so blind that you cannot see the sorcery that has befallen you? You, some of the greatest sorcerers know to this land?" The voice that rang clearly throughout the mages chamber was young, and very female. It was the voice of one of the most controversial and promising students ever to have graced the city of the gods. And as usual, Lily of DeLorento was causing trouble, and as usual she was feeling like everyone in the room was thinking that she was an idiot. And as usual she was thinking that she would really like to curl up in a hole and die far away from the mages council.

The oldest and wisest of the mages looked slightly intrigued and slightly embarrassed. Before speaking he cleared his throat in a manner that was questioning. "You are suggesting that the lady Kallisto's husband is a mage?" He asked to clarify.

"_Yes_, High Magus." Her speech was passionate, and her mind was begging them to understand that her accusations were not only plausible but true.

"So you are therefore suggesting that the members of this council are not strong enough to _know_ when an enemy mage is _in our territory_?" Magus Adolph was a terrifying man, he was old enough to be her father, but full of the same amount of power found in young men. He was rumored to have shut several students up in walls after they offended him. Lily's common sense was screaming that she had just offended one of the only men she had ever feared.

"No sir, I was merely suggesting that this man was as powerful, and able to hide is aura. It can be done sir, I read in –" Her voice failed her when Magus Adolphus stood up.

"_I know it can be done!_" He roared, the lowest notes of his voice echoed off the stone walls, creating an even more terrifying atmosphere. Lily's common sense was again screaming for her to flee, and yet her irrational self told her she would survive. "Because I have done it." His voice quieted, and yet still managed to echo through the room. "This council is not to be summoned for your pleasure Lady DeLorento. Nor is it to be summoned only to be insulted. Perhaps you have not noticed, but this council is no longer run by your father. And I do not think that I need to remind you that he was thouraghly discredited and considered a joke by the time he left. I do not wish to see you stray down that same path. Now kindly resume your studies quietly, and do not summon the council until you are forty five." Lily had always thought Magus Adolphus cold and distant, and now she found him cold, distant, _rude_ and cruel. For a moment she looked to the other Magus in the room, only to find their jaws equally firm and their faces just as stony.

Lily was full aware that shock painted her face, shock and outrage. Those two emotions combined gave her the power to turn on her heel and walk from the room with her head held high. _What have I done? _ Her mind asked frantically, and as always, a few moments later she was rewarded with the answer. _I have told the truth. I have told the truth to a room full of stubborn old men who are too attached to peace to see danger when it dances naked in front of them._

Most people would have noticed glares and whispers as they stormed down a hallway, but Lily was no most people, and she was quite used to whispers and glares. The other apprentice's of the City were, well, once could use the term 'put off' by Lily, but truly they were afraid. She was the only woman of her age to complete spells of the Red level and live to tell the tale, she was also the DeLorento heir, the daughter of the 'Mad Magus'. It was only natural for people to stare and whisper. Upon her arriving at the Magus center she _had_ hoped that after a few years they would get over it, she had obviously hoped in vain.

Her room was a mess of papers and books. Clothing lay haphazardly over her chair. Every flat surface was covered with something. Idly she wondered when the last time she had cleaned it was before she moved through the mess, searching for the saddle bags she knew where in the mess. Lily cursed as she fought her way through piles of research that she had long ago abandoned when new, more interesting things appeared. One of the great flaws of Lily's was that she seldom managed to finish things, she generally got distracted. She also never threw anything away, causing the mess.

Several minutes, and several curses later she found them under the chair with her clothes on it. She set the pack on her bed and began searching for the clothes she had bought two years ago when she had been sure she was leaving. She hadn't left, but she had spent her months allowance on skirts, breeches, tunics, and a rather sturdy pair of boots. The old clothes she found wrapped in their original brown paper in what was supposed to be a closet and had turned into a door that she never opened because she was sure it would never close again, Lily left it open.

She took the clothes to her bed and opened the leather flaps on the saddle bags. The bags were full of papers. Lily sighed and flipped over the bags and shook out the papers. They danced their way to the floor and Lily paused to watch them. They were her notes on MageLords, one of the first things she had learned about when arriving in the City of the Gods.

_MageLords are, very rare, extremely powerful, and unbeatable. Their power is worn like a mantle, visible and suffocating to all who have the gift. It can however, be hidden, if the Magi feels the need for secrecy. The last Magi of this rank lived three hundred years ago. _

Lily stared at her notes, _gods above!_ She thought in a panick. _Rasputin is a MageLord?_


	11. In Which There is A Sacrifice

**On Top Of Cloud Nine:** Uh oh, I feel like different isn't good. Hope you still like it. I still like it.

**Atsuibelulah**It has been awhile, but I decided I need to finish this, it's hard to drag it out, my mind takes the story different places, which explains why it's so much different from before. I mean, I thought it was going to be five chapters, I think we're looking at fifteen to twenty at this point! Ah! I very much like Lily too, I debated about putting her in, but I've decided she needs to be there. Thank you for sticking with me.

**Rumor Goddess: **Thankyou for pointing that out, but at this point it's far too late to change it. Thank you for your compliments also.

**Magewhisperer:** Wow, thank you so much!

**HyperKathryne:** Look more! After a day? How cool am I? Or how pathetic is my life? Lol!

**Lutefa:** I'm in love with Ukraine, which started out with a love for Russia.

**Some Radom Reviewer:** Thank you for your lovely compliments.

_A/N: Quick note before we get started, I want to finish this before the first of September, so updates are going to happen fast. Please remember to review because your input really helps with the descriptiveness, well, it helps me to remember to explain things well. And thank you all for your reviews, Cookies for all of you!._

**Unwanted Beauty: Chapter 11:**

Smiles creep slowly across some people's faces. On others, they appear randomly. But it is the smiles that are slow in coming that are the most rewarding. Things people had told her in the past where now causing a smile to creep onto the face of a beauty. For her entire life she had believed that beauty was a curse, and for her entire life she had been told that it was a wondrous gift. But how could it be a gift when it caused people to think her ignorant? And therein lay the gift, she would always be underestimated. Therefore, she always had the element of surprise. _I never wanted to be beautiful, but now I am glad that I am._

For days she had been given glares of suspicion from those in the Great Mother Goddess' compound. Women who obviously envied her, hated her for her behavior of late. They were just angry that they could not allow themselves to be true to themselves, the inner self that hates anything that bothers them. They were angry that they too could not refuse to wear the scratchy white robes, or the heavy metal armor that caused heat rash. Angry that they could not be beautiful, angry and aloof.

"Helene." An voice coated in age called to her, and the blonde turned to look at the old woman, a look of disgust distorting the beauty. "I believe it is time we talked. Your behavior of late is unacceptable." The elder said coldly. Helene's eyes flooded with tears and they cascaded down her face like tears. A reaction the elder was certainly not expecting, as was made blatantly obvious when her eyes widened considerably.

"I know Great Mother, and I am trying. But I've just been so sad and angry lately. I really do wish I could just be left alone, and when I finally find somewhere to be alone people show up. And it's so frustrating, and I lash out, and I know its wrong Mother. Please don't throw me out, I couldn't bear it." She said with a loud sob as she hid her face in her hands.

The elder sighed, of course that was why the girl was so rude lately; knowing that your husband was a powerful mage trying to find you would certainly be stressful. "Oh, of course dear. I'll leave you to your sorrows then." She said very quietly, exiting with the sound of a mouse. Helene looked up when the door clicked shut, and a smile slowly crept across her face.

--:--

"I've never seen the city so subdued." Thom gasped after a moment. He, Neal, and Keladry where all atop the hill looking into the valley of the city. It was Market day, but looked as if it where Sunday. A few people moved here and there about the city, but for the most part no movement was seen. It was frightening; a city so large should not be so quiet at noon. A city this size should be bursting with life, creating noise that could be heard for miles around, a city this size should not be so sad.

As their gazes crept through the valley they were drawing ever-nearer to the unnatural storm that was fast approaching from the west. Technically it was a tunderhead, truthfully it was something closer to a nuclear bomb. It was a storm designed to rip buildings from the ground and toss them high into the air. It was a storm made to wash out entire city blocks. It was a storm to decimate and destroy. A storm created to kill.

--:--

"The Jewel could possibly-" He began running his hands through ebony hair. The mage across from the table shook his head.

"It is very likely that the use of the jewel enabled this storm. We used it two years ago and didn't see very many draining effects; this storm may be the repayment for out last use of it. It will very likely make it worse Majesty." The taller man sighed. They had run into a wall, one that was as long as it was tall, as impassable as mountains in the dead of winter.

"Can you stop it?" Jonathan asked of his best mage. The taller darker man shrugged and looked defeated.

"I will certainly try. I am not sure however what effect it will have. That storm is a ball of rolling magic. It has to go downhill. This city is downhill. I…I will try, my liege." The older man said with a sad smile. He then got up and left. He knew he was battling with the elements. He knew he was once again battling death. The king knew that he had asked the impossible of Numair.

His young wife followed him after handing their baby to Alanna. "Numair." She breathed and he turned, sadness written on his face as blatantly as words on a page. "I love you." She said, wrapping her arms around him, holding him close for what could very well be the last time.

"I love you, forever and always." He said into her hair, smelling her, memorizing the way she felt to him, the way she made him feel.

"Into eternity and beyond." She swore to him, tears wetting his shirt. His tears fell into her hair. They stayed that way for several minutes, gaining strength from each other. And then he pulled away from her, and walked to the top of Balor's needle, wrapping his power along him as he went.

--:--

Lily felt it when she was fifty miles from the city. Power, from the east, devouring everything in it's path. She began spouting all of the curses she could come up with, in all of the languages she could come up with. She had run from the compound, convinced she had learned everything she could from the library. Perhaps there were still things to learn from the Magus, but she could never listen to them talk. Their very existence made her want to kick them in the shins and run away giggling. As did the existence of this MageLord. How they were going to rid the world of him she had no idea. But he had to go. If he stayed, well, he'd take over the world and then the gods would have to get involved and basically destroy the world. Or so she thought.

--:--

"We need to get down there." The lady Knight said, fear and pain alight in her usually stoic eyes. She guided her horse down the hill and into the city. The wind blew stronger, the horses began to indulge in their nerves. And a great beacon of light shined from Balor's Needle. It looked as though it was trying to burn the storm away. But how could you burn away a storm?

"Is he, _absorbing _it?" Neal asked, more to himself that his companions. If Numair was absorbing it…He'd be dead in a minute. "He can't be. That would be stupid." He murmured to himself. How much of the storm would dissipate is he absorbed it anyway? "Not much." Once again, he was talking to himself., as sure a sign of madness as anything.

_A/N: There you have it. Remember, Reviewers go to heaven, those who don't go to hell. ;)_


	12. In Which they All Arrive

**FanFictionFantom:** Lily reminds you of…now we can't have that. I'll have to work on that won't I?

**Magewhisperer:** Yeah, they're dead now…Well, Jon is…

**Mycatcoco7: **And to heaven you shall fly if you keep reviewing…

**Ari:** Wow, thankyou very much! You made my day!

**Some Random Reviewer: **I'm going to summarize below to help with the confusion.

**Lutefa:** Yup Numair died, sobsob

_Summary For those Confused: _Okay, Kallisto/Morgan/Helene/ Guinevere/Mona Lisa/Elizabeth are _all the same person_. She fell in 'love' with Thom, was forced to marry Rasputin and ran away to the Temple of the godess. Thom thought she was just playing with him and went to the swamps to study magic and drown his sorrows in swamp muck. Neal figured it out and goes to fetch Thom. Meanwhile our leading lady decides that she is being continually underestimated and goes slightly evil for reasons that will be explained later. Rasputin starts this war and that's where we are today. Hope that helped.

**Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Twelve: In Which It Begins to Begin**

He grinned as he watched the puny Mage attempt to re-direct his storm. _His storm. _His storm could be redirected, for a day or so anyways. He had been counting on it actually; apparently the lover needed some more time to get to Corus. Fine, he would let the mortals prattle around in their amusing way until he bored of them, which would not take long.

He knew where she was hiding. He could see her. He watched her berate servants and then cry and plead her case to the Great Mothers in the temple. He watched her laugh when they left her. He watched her snicker. He watched her eyes grow cold again. He had underestimated her worth. He had taken her as just another warm body, when she was much more. She was his Fair Ice Queen, and she had now been deemed worthy of him.

Rasputin laughed as he watched the redhead and his two friends gallop up to the castle. It was time. With a wave of his hands the storm swelled with power, and the mage lights of all the castle mages snuffed out. Again he laughed, the sound bouncing from the rocks, becoming even more sinister as it echoed across the valley.

--:--

Thom, Keladry and Neal stared. The king was dead. _The King was dead._ And the Dominion Jewel had broken in two. "Find the Prince." Neal told the servant who had let them into the Kings study.

"Sir?" The servant asked in shock.

"Find the next surviving heir!" He roared. The serving girl looked wildly between the two of them, her eyes wide with fright. For a moment she looked as though she was going to cry, and then she was gone tearing off down the halls yelling orders as she went. The country would not crumble now.

--:--

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." Lily repeated to herself over and over as she pushed her mount onward. She had to get to the city. Lily had no idea what that idiot's that claimed to be the kings mages thought they were doing. There is no way to _absorb _a storm. It's a freaking force of nature. You do not mess with nature until you have to. What the idiots should have done was put a protective bubble around the city and watched as the storm went past. But nooooo! No, the idiots had to try to absorb it, and in doing so feed it more energy. _Fanfuckingtastic._ She thought to herself.

--:--

Helene had to laugh at the mages attempts to still the storm. Even she knew that the only way to fight nature was with nature. She also knew that human mage's couldn't call up a storm to fight Rasputin's. She was still smirking slightly when one of the Apprentice's came in, tears streaming down her face. Helene bit her lip to keep from throwing another angry remark at the girl.

"What's happened?" Helene asked moments later.

"The king is dead. Long live King Liam!" The Apprentice breathed before fainting.

"Ugg…Peasants." Helene growled. This was it. This was the opportunity she needed. The new king would need all the support he could get. Support from a beautiful woman. _You can be Queen._ The selfish part of her brain murmured to her.

_But what of Thom?_ Part of her was still attached to the stunning figure that was Thom. Bright fire-red hair and eyes of violet. He was the first person to see her for what she really was, more than a pretty face.

_Thom doesn't really know me. He wouldn't want me if he knew the truth about me. He'll get over me._ She thought as she grabbed a woolen cloak.

_You're being selfish and rude._

_Yes, I'm taking what I want. For once in my life I will get what I desire. _

--:--

Liam sat, surrounded by his father's old advisers. Some of them were men that her respected, others were men he knew to be old and stuck in his ways. Behind him stood boyhood friends, fiercely loyal.

_I can't do this. Roald was supposed to do this! I haven't been trained…He wasn't supposed to be helping them with that spell! Stupid, impulsive…I can't even get properly angry at him…_"Alright, I believe we all are aware of what's going on. Rasputin is rumored to be staying behind this ridge; I have some of lower rank Mage's scrying for him now." Liam paused; there was a disturbance at the door of the War Chamber.

Those in the room heard a loud thud and then a short woman with wavy brown hair that fell like a waterfall down her back walked in. She was by no means the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen. Her appearance was decidedly messy and untamed. Her clothes were clean but stained with tea. She had a scar above her right eyebrow, and more littered her hands, the result of mismanaged spell work. She was also terrifying, a woman, barely more that five feet tall was terrifying. Why?- You ask. Because within her was stored power that fed from anger, hate, and dislike.

"Hello, alright. Rasputin is a MageLord which basically means that we're going to have to stab him in the back while he's not looking or he'll just light us on fire with his mind. Secondly, you can't get rid of a storm; I don't know whose idea that was. What you need to do is put a bubble around the city and wait it out like normal people. Thirdly, where is the confounded girl this whole thing is over?" She asked in a rush. There was no time for pleasantries she needed to come up with a good distraction.

The room had been stunned to silence. "Who are you?" Liam asked, slightly affronted by the girls upfront manner. She had, in a manner insulted his father and Numair.

"Oh, Lily DeLorento." She said as casually as possible. Liam nodded and pulled a page close to him. He whispered urgently to the boy, who was nodding and nodding, Lily wondered for a moment if his head was going to fall straight off.

"Okay, he's gone to get someone to fetch the mage's and the girl. Now what kind of a diversion would you recommend?" he asked as he crossed his arms. _He's barely out of boyhood_. Lily thought with despair. _He has no idea how to be a king. He's just as confused as the rest of the city. _

"Thom!" A cry of shock was launched from the door. Lily turned in time with the rest of those in the room.

"Morgan!" The red haired man gasped.

"Guinevere." She corrected with more strength than was necessary. Thom frowned for a moment but accepted it with a smile. The room watched as the lovers whispered urgently to each other, Liam with well disguised envy on his face. Few ever got to see such a beautiful woman, fewer less got to hold one so close. Liam wanted to be the one holding her. He shook it off and the room continued to speak of distractions…


	13. In Which I Cannot Remember the Title

**On top of cloud 9:** I was in oregonn visiting cousins not to long ago too! It's great fun, I think I was technically in Washington tho..hm… Anywho, Helene went evil randomly, I was told I needed more character flaws…And then she went completely phsychotic on me…ah well…

**Rebeccan Victoria Rushron:** Wow you figured the titles out! Have a cookie! She doesn't know the Lioness because she's been hidden away by her mother in a random country far far away by her mother. Lol, if you still don't understand Rasputin when you get here ask again and I will explain.

**Sirladyknight:** yes…the king died…how tragic…I like her better as Morgan too, but the Characters will do as they wish…I am merely the Author…I have no real power.

**Atlanta**** Enchanted:** Enjoy.

**FanfictionFantom: **lol, I know. I have trouble keeping track of which person she is not too! Yes…Liam's jealous…joy!

**Mycatcoco7: **Why thankyou!

**Some Random Reviewer: **Yes, she's quite evil…but that is what the story is about sooo! _Should…_

**Unwanted Beauty: Chapter 13: In Which Events Unfold**

Fury coiled in Liam's chest. He was the prince!- No, he was the King! _He _was the one who was supposed to have all of the beautiful women. _He_ was the one who had all of the power. And here Thom was, with the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen hanging off of his every word. And Thom didn't even seem to notice! No, Thom was much more interested in the Magus Lily, who was, in her own very unique way very attractive. _Snap out of it. You're the King now, this is not the place for stupid alpha male fights. Thom is your friend, he has always been. Now shut up and focus on your job. _

Lily had been right about the bubble. The city was now underneath a cloudy hemisphere that was effectively shielding the city from the storm. Lily had been right about most of the things she said actually. Liam was currently explaining to his generals that the fight they were staging the minute the storm ended. "You are not to try and be heroic, you are not to put yourselves in unnessesary danger. There might not even be a real army. It might all be a giant illusion, or part of an illusion. Do not stop defending yourself if you find that the army is an illusion. There still might be real men inside of it. If you see Rasputin, _do_ try and kill him, or task force may not find him. The sooner he is dead. The sooner this is over and you can go back to your wives and children.

"Or our whores…" A man muttered and Liam grinned.

"Them too. Any questions?" The king asked, his blue eyes glinting with ferocity in the candlelight. The generals shook their heads and Liam dismissed them. When they where out of the doors he sank wearily into his chair. _When did it come to this? How did it come to this?_ _Why would you start a war over a woman? A beautiful one, but why put out the effort? Dad wouldn't have started a war for mom if she had left…Well, never mind he might have. But only if it had been a Scanran who she'd left him for…Where is Rasputin from? _He shot up in his chair. This wasn't about Guinevere at all. Rasputin wanted a war, he wanted to take over Tortall. _Now that, I can't allow._He stood. This was a war. This was something that he understood, a war fought for dominance not for love. The door opened and Liam looked up after a moment.

"_Guinevere,_" He breathed. She was breathtaking as always, her hair falling in soft waves around her face. He body was elegant, clad in breeches and a long tunic. "How can I help you?" He asked, biting the inside of his cheek when she started walking up to him. She paused across from him, the oak table in between then strewn with maps.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for fighting for me. And that…And that I'll go back to him. You don't have to do thins." He opened his mouth to protest and she quickly laid one finger against his lips in a hushing motion. "I know that your honor protests that, but really, fighting a war for me? It's not necessary. As soon as the storm blows past I'll go to him, and your country will be safe." Guinevere really had no idea what had possessed her to say such things. She didn't want to go back to that…._dog_. She did want this war fought for her. She felt as though she was two people. One part of her hated that man, shuddered at the thought of him and wanted to love Thom. The other part of her had bursts of nobility, wanting no one to underestimate her, wanting no one to care for her, wanted more power. It was the second part that had made her say these things, knowing that they would only strengthen the king's resolve and deepen his respect for her.

"Lady Guinevere, this war is not just about you. Rasputin can _say_ that it is about you, name you the reason for it. But this is a war just like any other. It is a war for possession, for prestiege. The man who takes down Tortall will be infamous forever. He only wants that fame. This isn't about you. Please don't feel responsible, beautiful lady." He said quickly, passion and comfort lacing his voice. During the immortals war he and his sisters had convinced themselves that they were the cause of the war. They too had decided that they would sacrifice themselves so that others could live. Liam knew that it was not a fun place to be put in. He knew the pain and anguish that would overwhelm. He watched as her eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall.

"But Sire, all of your men, they have families, lovers, sisters and brothers. I cannot allow so much pain to be created for my sake. I'll not let you fight this war for me." She said, shaking her head mournfully. Blond hair reflected the candlelight, giving her the appearance of an angel.

"You can refuse all you want Guinevere, you can protest and cry. But I'll not let you give yourself back to that man. I am fighting this war, not for your sake, but for the sake of my country. Even if you went to him, he would still fight the next morning." His eyes were full of hatred for Rasputin, how dare he cause this beautiful woman so much pain! How _dare_ he. Fury boiled within him, curling in his stomach, hot and violent. He would crush Rasputin.

"I…I just…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes traveled to the corner of the room in a vain attempt to hide her sorrow. Liam reached out and moved her chin so that she was looking at him.

"Do not worry about this, my lady. It has nothing to do with you." His voice was soft, a mere whisper carried on a wavelength only lovers use. Guinevere nodded and fled the room. Once again Liam sighed and threw himself down into the chair by the fireplace.

--:--

Lily was brooding. She knew it was unattractive, she knew it was slightly rude. But her head ached and her stomach was turning and she was utterly pissed. Not that she knew _why_, but she was. The spell to defend the city was being held by mages in the castle, she had been the one who cast it, and the results were terrifying. Lily had fallen backwards into the magic, felt her spirit and her body separate. Lily DeLorento had ceased to exist, she was the magic, it was in her, the magic possessed her. She had lost control; her soul spinning with the spell, ingraining the magic with could, strengthening the bonds, ensuring they would hold. And now she was exhausted.

She was somewhat aware that there was another human being trying to Parle with her. She was also aware that it would be rude of her not to speak back. She was also, _very, aware_ that it would take quite a bit of effort. Her eye cracked open, exposing itself to light, air, and the bright purple eye of a man she had directed like a sheepdog earlier in the day. A sigh heaved itself from her chest. Yes, she would have to speak with this man.

"Hmm?" She asked, uttering her first sound in hours.

"Drink this, it'll help." He said, pressing a wooden goblet to her lips. Her other eye opened and looked at the contents of the glass with mistrust. The beverage was a murky grey, and it smelled of strawberries. She was quite used to potions that smelled of eggs or broccoli. One that smelled of fruit was the most suspicious of them all.

"What did you put in it?" She asked, her voice cracking and then fading out entirely. She felt as though there was a sticky substance coating her throat, preventing her from speaking.

The other mage sighed and rolled his eyes. "It's just tea. Nothing fancy." The brunet frowned but drank it anyway. Tea she would trust- for now.

"What's happening?" Lily demanded as she sat up and put the cup down. Her head was spinning, and her body protested every movement. What she really needed was a good run around the castle to loosen everything back up, but there was no time.

"Liam's spoken to the army and the task force. The mages are holding your spell with little effort and my mother is throwing things with Thayet." He said blandly, Lily looked at him for a minute.

"Uh huh…okay where is the girl?" She asked, not too friendly.

"I…actually I don't know." He seemed a little surprised by his own answer.

"Aren't you supposed to be lovers or something?" She asked in confusion.

"Not really. Perhaps. I don't know." He said with a wry smile.

"Uh huh." Lily said, growling as she forced her body upright. "I am never doing that again. _Never_." She muttered to herself, taking careful note of the pain she was in. "Alright. I have to move. Find me when the storm leaves and the army marches. I'm going with the taskforce. Where's the armory?" She asked, her brain moving at a pace to fast for pleasantries.

"I'll show you." He offered, ever the gentleman.

"You'll have to keep up."

"Keep up?" he asked as she took of running.


	14. In Which there is a Dissapearance

**Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Fourteen: In Which There are A Hundred Thousand Soldiers**

**Rebecca Victoria Rushton:** I have actually never seen Win A Date With Tad Hamilton, nor have I seen BFGW, my aunt quoted that at me the other day. New TP Book! And there was just the new Paolini book, which is very good by the way.

**Sirladyknight:** lol, sorry, I really like the names thing, it makes me happy inside…

**Magewhisperer:** T/L? and G/L? huh? Really? Well then…

**Mycatcoco7: **Mad for power and a lot like Rasputin huh? You may be on to something dearie.

**FanFictionFantom: **Hehehe…yes, that is my evil plan, _major_ character flaws! So much fun to write!

**On top of cloud 9: **yes, uber psychotic Helen.

**Lutefa: **yay for the nutters people

**Some Random Reviewer: **I know, its so sad when the babies get big…sigh

Lily was armed and dangerous, well…Lily was armed. She wasn't actually exactly trained to use a sword, but the village idiots could do it, if worse came to worse she was sure she could figure it out.

The wind whipped back her long brown curls, teasing it into thousands of elfish knots that would eventually have to be untangled at a later date. For the time being she was enjoying the feeling of the wind dancing around her body. She stood at the top of Balor's Needle, watching the storm finish out and the clouds roll out into the countryside. The time was now; Rasputin would begin his attack soon, if he hadn't already.

The Army had been ready for three days, Liam and the Lady Guinevere had spent most of that time eyeing each other curiously or fighting. Lily had stopped trying to figure out what exactly their relationship was hours after she had woken up. It was too bloody complicated. Technically Thom and Guinevere were entwined…But Thom looked like he could really care less if Liam took over caring for Guinevere.

The approach of another being startled her. "Care if I join you?" Sir Neal asked her as he perched on the edge of the wall. _He's not afraid to fall?_ She wondered, in awe of him. Lily was by no means scared to be in the tower, but she wouldn't sit on the edge and taunt death like he was.

"Not at all." Lily said quietly, quite often she was possessed by a melancholy spirit. Today was one of her sad days, but really, when fighting a magelord what else can you do but feel a little sad and intimidated?

"So you were sent from the City?" he asked casually, but Lily knew she was in trouble…

"No, not exactly…" She said quietly, forcing herself not to shift nervously from foot to foot.

"Not exactly?" He asked, his bright green eyes flashing angrily, Lily winced.

"I explained my case to them, and they um, well…Well they told me I was crazy and that I ought to shut up and go die." She said angrily. "They told me that I was an idiot. But they're idiots. They ignore the obvious. There is an army outsider this city and I bet if you asked them they would tell you that there isn't! Because they're too bloody wrapped up in peace to recognize a threat when it dances at the city gates and storms the castle!" She yelled, clenching her fists and bouncing up and down in fury. She _hated _ those men. She _still_ hated those men.

"I see." He said doubtfully. "So basically you're a rouge mage who has been discredited by the Magus Council and run away?" He asked snidely. Lily felt her face flush.

"Yes that is exactly what I am, Sir." She said painfully. Shame flooded her body, like a rush of cold air sweeping through her veins, making her toes curl.

"Those aren't good credentials, Lady DeLorento. In fact, most would consider them quite scandalous." Sir Nealan's eyebrows had risen, arched in a fashion exclusive to high nobility. She knew the movement was meant to shame her. Lily felt sick, no one understood! These where the rebels of history. _He _was a rebel. How many times had her father walked into her room, laughing at the antics of squires and knights. He and his wife openly defied Lord Wyldon, Lord Raoul, the king! And he thought that he could stand and shame her?

"Why should I be ashamed of _my_ indiscretions Lord Nealan?" The shock on his face at those words spurred her on, allowing her mouth to once again run away with her. "All _I _have done was in the name of truth and protection, was it not? And was I not correct? Do _not_ attempt to shame me! My actions have saved thousands already! Am I not the same age you were when you defied your commanding officer? Several times? Am I not the same age the old king was when he defied both his father and the king? Am I not the age Lady Alanna was? Or the Lady Diane? Our country thrives on the actions of those who disobey their commanders.

"All I have done was defying a council of old men to attached to peace. I defied men who discredited my father's research, _my _research. I had no reason to respect them. I had nothing to gain from them. So I left to try my hand in this city, and may I say it's worked much better. Until now, you sir, have no right to attempt to put me in my place. I have no place in which to be put because I have not made one for myself. If you want me to leave after this is over, _fine._ But I have not finished what I have started yet, and I will." Lily's speech was angry, it was passionate, and it was full of hurt. Neal was quite shocked, he hadn't intended to imply that he disrespected her actions, but she had turned on her heel and left by the time he comprehended what her outburst was about. He shook his head, _women…_

---:---

Tears fell like rain from Guinevere's' eyes. Not out of guilt, or hurt, they were caused by pure confusion. Why in the world did she want them to fight a war for her? Why in the world had she been thinking that she wanted to wield this kind of power? Why in the world had she been acting so horrible of late? It was almost like she was schizophrenic! One minute she was a raving bitch and the next she was bawling in the kings arms. One minute she loved Thom the next she thought he was stupid. _You'd think I was pregnant._ She thought with a little smile.

"No shit!" She screamed. _Am I pregnant? Please, please don't tell me I'm pregnant! I can't be…Whose is it? Thom's? Or Rasputin? Goddess above…help me!_

---:---

The army turned to watch as thunderclouds rolled out. This was it, this was their time. Their chance to make history had arrived. Their fifteen minutes of fame and arrived, and terror gripped their hearts. What lay beyond that hill? What terror awaited them? What valiant tale of death would be told of them? Chaos ruled in the minds of the soldiers, her cackling laughter echoing off the insides of their minds like a spider's feet in an orchestra chamber. She terrified them, whispering thoughts of failure and death in their minds, then she cleverly whispered thoughts of lovers, wives, and daughters into their already reeling minds.

A lone man slowly crested the hill, his head and shoulders arriving first, then his torso and legs. He took his time, his languid body movements illustrating the already obvious carelessness the man possessed. The man stood tall, a dark and sinister figure who regarded the gathered army with amusement and disdain. There are moments in time where everyone freezes, the invasion of Troy was one such moment, Arthur's glorious return only to find his wife in another's arms, or perhaps Robin Hood's victory over Nottingham. These are the moments in time in which people everywhere stop and pause, without knowledge as to why, but they feel the need to halt their movement and listen to the earth, listen to the warnings that it is spewing forth.

Some of the soldiers heeded the warnings the earth, fleeing the obvious stupidity of such a battle. Others stood fast, their loyalty to god and country acting as an anchor, or perhaps they were too terrified to move. With a loud, guttural snap a hundred thousand soldiers vanished from the earth, simply gone…


	15. In Which Rasputin Arrives

**ALH: **No, you're not supposed to feel sorry for Gwen, she's not very nice right now is she? Unrealistic Characters? How so? Please elaborate, I really would like you to expound on that so that for the next story I won't make that mistake again. As for the grammar errors, I've never really studied grammar so I have no way to know I've made those mistakes, I do try, just know that.

**Silveni: **Hehehe, yes I'm tricky, I don't think most people have figured this out, ah well, it makes me giggle. You Should ALWAYS review!

**Padme Amidala2121:**Is there a lot of swearing? I really hadn't noticed there was that much, ah well…

**FanFictionFantom: **I haven't read Troy, I have the feeling I should tho now from your review…Maybe she will die….Maybe she'll live…Maybe she goes back to Rasputin…who knows? I certainly don't…

**Mycatcoco7: **oooh! I'm that clever am I? IS she? I dunno, why would I know? I never know whats going on, the characters never tell me…

**Magewhisperer: **the best! Thank you!  
**On top of cloud 9: **I dunno whose it is…I'm only the author…

**Lutefa:** I've read Dealing w/Dragons, one of my favorites actually, _is _she pregnant? I dunno, why are you asking me questions I don't know the answer to! It makes my head hurt!

**Unwanted Beauty: Chapter Fifteen: In Which Rasputin Arrives**

"_WHAT?_" Liam roared his voice harsh and cutting as he screamed. The sentry cowered, fear and shame echoing through his head, resounding, gaining in strength and volume.

"The army sire, it's _gone_." He whispered and then fled, his worn boots sliding softly on the stone floors. Liam growled, the noise emitting from deep in his throat and escaping through gritted teeth. "How does an army of a hundred thousand men _disappear?_" He asked himself.

"Rasputin." Guinevere was sitting in the windowsill, looking out over the deserted city. The sunlight played in her hair, illuminating each strand, and Liam felt his heart skip a beat. She wore dark grey leggings, and a sleeveless tunic that was dyed a brilliant violet, a jewel incrusted dagger hung from her hip, throwing circles of colored light onto the bland castle walls. Thom and Lily looked up from the books they had spread across an oak table.

"He's on his way then." Lily stood and smoothed her tunic nervously. She hadn't thought the army would do much against a Magelord, but Liam had insisted on trying, and now a hundred thousand men where gone. Now it was up to her, or so she thought. Tom rose up from his chair, fright evident on his pale skin. He looked as though he wanted to protest her moving from the room.

"He's arrived." Ice frosted on the walls, noses began to run and each person's breath was now visible. The door shut silently, chills running up the spines of those in the room. He was still grotesque, still mismatched, but Liam noticed a distinct change in the man, _power_. Guinevere screamed, her voice reaching a pitch only dogs could hear. Rasputin smiled at the wide eyed girl. "My love, come to me." He said, reaching a hand out to her, after a moment of confusion she went to him, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Guinevere!" Three shocked voices cried, Thom had a look of utter revulsion on his face. He had _loved _her, loved a woman who had done, well he wasn't sure what she had done or what she was doing, but it had something to so with Rasputin and that was enough information for now. Liam was confused and lightly heartbroken, he had no idea who this woman was, or why she affected him so, but now there was no chance to find out, she was obviously a traitor. Lily was thinking quickly, thoughts darting around in her head like sparrows.

_Kallisto what are you doing! **I'm joining the winning side. **The winning side? Remember what he did to you! **He was gaining power, and he gained it, if I go to him now, it will hurt less later on. **The right decision isn't always going to be the easiest. Nor is it painless! _

Liam and Thom drew their swords, the metal singing as it rushed out of their scabbards. "Your weapons are useless." The mage murmured, his amusement gliding off the walls. Their swords froze and shattered, the shards bouncing off of the floor, creating a symphony of tinkling metal. Both men swore and blew on their snow-burned hand, the skin lily white on hands that were usually painted brown by the sun.

"You cannot invade my country, murder my father and hundreds of other mages, and kill my army. Draw your sword and fight!" Liam's challenge created even more laughter, the Magelord looking more amused by the moment.

"Actually, I can, because I already have. And I didn't kill them, I _moved_ them to another realm. And did you really think that I actually _used_ this? It's a fashion statement, just like Guinevere's dagger is. No one actually uses _swords_ anymore." He said dully as he inspected the paintings on the walls.

_Kally **move!** Do something! Like what? Jump on his back and try to strangle him. **Shut up, he's the most powerful man in the world. Like I could do anything but adore him…**Eww….Where did that come from?_

"_Move!_" Lily screamed, Liam and Thom looked behind them and then dove to the floor, quiet 'oomph's where released as their torso's connecting with the stone. Blazing fire ripped from Lily's chest, scorching her breast. The fire streaked across the room, a streak of fire burning up the oxygen, making everyone in the room feel short of breath and light headed. It connected solidly with Rasputin, who looked mildly put out at best.

"Now my dear, play nicely." He admonished. Lily sagged against the wall, scorched and exhausted. Her face was pale, blue bags already forming under her eyes.

"I…You…_Egotistical, son of a hamster! Brainless, dick thinker, walking turd!"_ She screamed, green eyes blazing. "I will kill you if it's the last thing I do!" Rasputin blinked and then smiled in a placating manner.

"No…_I'm _going to…" Guinevere's dagger was poised above Rasputin's head, deathly beautiful. The blade swung in a silvery arc, the jewels flashing a rainbow of light across the room, even as blood began to flow from the tip, plunging into his body. The red expanded in a messy circle. It flew from the wound, displaced by the force and momentum, it coated Guinevere's arms, some landing on her face and hair.

Rasputin turned, glaring death at her as his eyes slowly glazed over. His body twisted as it fell, the only time his repulsive body looked graceful. Lily, Thom and Liam stared at her, their bloody angel. Then she screamed and fell to the floor, one arm thrown out to catch herself, the other clutched against her abdomen. Crystaline tears fell as she loosened a cry of pure agony from her throat. No one moved.

_Alright, there was the climax, there's the epilogue now, but that's all. Tell me how much you love me! Also, I'm going to Missouri to help with the relief effort, so it will be a week or two, but please do remember that the Epilogue is coming. _


	16. In Which the End is Upon Us

**Unwanted Beauty: Epilogue**

The earth shook, the rocks screamed and the trees waved their branches in jubilation. The latest threat to their existence was gone, his energy released back into the world, feeding the parched earth-life. It had been hundreds of years since such energy was given back to the earth. Trees bloomed and flowers blossomed, great oaks jumped in size, becoming as large as some houses. A girl standing next to a tree was enveloped in it's trunk, becoming the first tree elf. Canyons closed while others split open.

Lily was the first to crawl towards Guinevere, the young woman crouched into the fetal position, tears streaming down her face. "Gwen, can you hear me?" She asked, her eyes flitting over the girls body. Blood spattered her arms and face, and her clothing soaked up that which had pooled on the floor. Spells flowed from Lily's fingertips, curing Gwen yet draining Lily, life flowed out of one body and into the next, from Lily to Gwen, to a small life growing inside of Guinevere.

"What is it? What's wrong with her?" Liam demanded as Lily swooned. Pine needle green eyes looked through him, seeing him for the very first time.

"Spell…" Lily murmured before she too slipped to the floor unconscious.

"Spell? What spell?" Liam screamed, desperation peeling off of him like a terrible sunburn.

"It must have been a mind control thing." Thoughts tumbled through the air from Thom's mouth, his heart more concerned for Lily. His hands trailed over her throat and wrists, frantically searching for the pulse that would never be found.

Healers and remaining castle staff poured into the room, crowding around their king and future queen. Later, Thom would be informed that Lily sacrificed her life for the queen's. Later he would be told that the two had been happily wed, and the queen had given birth to a babe months early. _Later. _

For now he was content to leave the room, leave the castle, and move into the forest, forgetting the life he had been given before. And later he would meet a pretty girl with pointed ears.

_A/N: There you go faithful fans. Expect a sequel of sorts, later. Rasputins heir is on the loose, and a new breed of humans must be developed, and Thom still hasn't found true love. _


End file.
